What could hurt more
Than being left with a heart scorned,
When the door of love unknowingly closed
In silence, amidst the clattering storm?

Questions linger there,
With no one to answer or care,
Hanging on fire, waiting for a call,
Defying the pain of a broken fall.

Will there ever be recovery
From the tranquility of tragedy?
Or a gleam of hope
In the unlit space of a torn passion's trope?