And you, why?
Why scratch my soul,
Leaving me bruised, broken, and bleeding alone?
Why play with me, knowing full well
That you would later leave,
Slipping away as the night slowly sighs?
Like rain roaring at first,
Promising to bless the barren ground,
To call the seeds to rise
Yet it turns to hail, harsh and heavy,
Shattering the tender sprouts,
Leaving the field of my heart
Silent, frozen, and dead for good.