Lost Love

We misunderstood.
Now she is gone,
leaving me the empty shell that fire's leave,
so black,
so dull,
consumed to nothing.
I am no more a man
my love look that from me,
and left me but a child
to weep,
to weep,
To weep without tears
that wash away the sorrow.
To cry without sound
that all my body keeps.
Though eyes are dry
and lips are mute;
the swollen clouds weep my lament
and thunder speaks my sorrow.

by Thomas Ruth

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