Oh where did the gentle rains of spring go? With them went the gentle love held so close to my heart. The certainty of love, your presence across the table, your smile in the mornings, were like calm steady rains of spring. Now there is only emptiness, and the storms of life rush in to fill the void.
As each bolt of lightening strikes it is but a mirror of my growing anger… Each peal of thunder matches the angry shouts from my soul. Only the storm is a match for my fury, the flashing lightning strike is a match for the searing of my pain.
The sounds of the wind-swept rain and the electric crackle of the storm match my anger as I stride back and forth on the porch. Is my anger at you, for leaving; or at me, for letting you go? But no matter from whence it came, the rages of anger are killing my soul. Such a wonderful love was strong nectar, but once gone it only leaves the bitter taste of the dregs.