This is not a love poem, nor is it a crescendo of romance.
This is a story of scorn.
Pain and sadness.

Love was once what I felt.
A deep emotion running through my veins.
But that's what was, and the now is neigh-
For no love could survive this endless silver storm.

This isn't a lovers tale. Nor is it a chance to redeem which as already failed.
I writing this to let you know. That I haven't broke.
That each day the sun rises and I am fine.

So, this isn't a love poem.
But a reminder: I am still standing tall.
And my love belongs only to me.