Nature Mourns

Oh sad lackluster day.
Even the sky is crying,
Mourning the lovers lost,
The smiles sacrificed on the death bed of passion.

Rain runs down the foggy windows,
Like tears course her ashen cheeks.

Skeleton branches of a dying oak wave madly in the wind,
Like her empty arms clutch and hold nothing.

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This poem isn't done, SO not done. But if I put it up here, then every time I open my page I will see it and remember to finish it.