I walk through the pouring rain, wind howling at my face, tearing, my hair blows in the wind. The rain streams down my youthful face, aged now, with grief and pain, rain like tears, falls from empty sky. I walk through twilit streets, dim with mist and rain, and I wander, lost in daylight dreams, a haze of visions, enshrouding me, embracing me....her touch soft on my cheek, her gaze gentle, and yet strong, helping me, guiding me out of the howling storms of my inner mind, her whisper warm against my ear, her tears hot, mix with mine, as she whispers, her words full of love and quiet strength, even as she weeps, quiet tears. I fall into dark oblivion, lulled by her caring words, and the soft and gentle sounds of her weeping. I am walking. That, a distant memory, gone, shattered into a million shards of brightest glass, her screams mingle with mine, her body cold on empty street, the wind howls, leaves whipping past my pale face. I hold her, tears streaming, falling, her life bleeding out, trickling, slowing....she draws in a ragged breath, tongue poised for words, eyes desperate, pleading. She dies, breath sighing, slipping, back, into that cruel Autumnal world. I fall, head cradled against her chilling breast, blood slowing now, stopping. She is cold against me. I scream, world uncaring, carries on, and I alone, agony cold in my chest, I fall into the deepest black, her screams echoing after me, down into the dark of sleep. I walk, the rain pours down, the wind cuts me, chills me, dank hair falling, I walk alone, and empty, of life of love, of joy of peace.
I walk, and that empty pain, bitter as the dregs of cheapest wine, roars up, a storm once held in check by her love and gentle tears, strengthened by newer loss and fresher pain, it wells up, and I scream, ragged and tearing. I fall, knees scraping, stones stabbing, mud and leaves pulling, reaching, for my weary soul. I weep for pain and bitter grief, the storms roaring, within, without. I look up at cloudy sky, grey and empty, rain falling like bitter tears. I fall, limbs failing, heart quailing, beneath the empty, bitter pain. I lie here, amidst the mud and leaves, rain whipping past, wind screaming, I lie, consumed at last, by grief, cold fingers squeezing my screaming heart. I lie here, and wait for death, and my beloveds gentle tears.
Autumnal grief and bitter pain. These are the themes of this poem. I wish that love be not so fragile, and trust not so easily shattered, irreparably, lost in a million shining fragments of cutting glass.