There she was, a myriad of hopes eliciting alacrity within me.
I'd seen her one day when the skies were clear and when there'd be fewer poets to write about its beauty. You see poets devour dark clouds. They'd see one,
soak in its greys,
let it simmer and concentrate,
put it into their pens
and write poetry unto paper.
She brought with herself dark clouds and here I was mesmerised by clear skies. I'd see her dark clouds and figure 'Let it rain'
'Maybe I'd pain
to let go of this feign'
She'd embrace me and I'd shiver
It wasn't because she was cold, but because warmth feels alien to a cold heart.
I'd begun to fear,
everyone leaving me,
I'd begun to fear her arrival
And with it, the birth of poetry in me