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When the skies lie burdened with heavy clouds,
When the buds yearn to bloom, but for a ray of sun,
When the fires grow weary of burning evermore,
I will think of you.

It slices my conscience into slivers of guilt,
To think that I would ever relate the likes of you,
To times so dreary,
That unbearable pain and unsalvageable mess makes me think of you.
But was my spirit not the same, when I met you?
Was my will not desiccating, when you found it?
When with a gentle touch, you placed the pieces back.
When you replaced the dulled fragments, with little bits of shining stars.
When the mere fact that I could ever deserve your love,
Made me feel whole again!

So do you understand how it pains my heart,
To see you heading towards a raging storm?
Do you see how your theory of clogging your mind with thoughts,
Now applies to the both of us?
I never had the courage you have, and might never will,
To move heaven and hell or stubborn will,
But listen carefully dear, for the silent whispers of my heart,
Which refuses to let you go.
Look carefully, and find that outstretched hand yearning for your reach.
I cannot take away the pain, but I am willing to share.
Shed not your tears into the arms of loneliness,
But know that there is a shoulder, that can understand!

— The End —