He walked away with the darkest silence

Leaving all their memories behind

He left her hand when she needed the most

Giving reasons least defined.

She wept, for nights and days

Till eyes dried and cushions blotched,

Her fainting voice chocked in pain

With hopes of his return gradually lost.

His love was weak and he was weaker

For they together failed the test of time

In the shade of dark, they swiftly vanished

Presuming that she will be fine.

Was she fine, was she not?

Inside she was battling through

a violent riot

Yet she stood up and she stood strong

With dilapidating trust

she lived on.

An artist succumbed to this tragic fate

For she could no longer write

He robbed her of her inspiration

When he crept away quietly that night

Her thoughts were ink that faded away

And the canvas rendered white

Amidst all this mayhem, she knew,

the beautiful poet in her

painfully died.

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