They say I’m the storm that tore it apart,
The one who left ruins in someone’s heart.
No matter how clear the skies may seem,
They only recall the thunder and scream.

I’ve wandered far from those wild winds,
But the echoes of past mistakes still spin.
They look at me through shattered glass,
Seeing only the cracks of what couldn’t last.

In their eyes, I’m the fault, the fall,
The reason the walls crumbled tall.
No bridges left, just broken ground,
And no path back can ever be found.

But is it the storm or the earth below,
That crumbles first when the winds blow?
Maybe we’re both tangled in pride,
Both trying to claim who’s justified.

I’m the shadow they can’t forget,
The cause of a pain they won’t reset.
But deep inside, the truth’s unclear—
Who truly caused the fall, and who shed the tear?

So here I stand in the ruins we built,
Carrying the weight of unshaken guilt.
They see only the storm, never the calm,
In a tale where neither was truly wrong.