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![p1khlfeqk9.png](https://img.esteem.ws/p1khlfeqk9.png)[image source](https://pixabay.com/photos/dandelion-flower-nature-close-up-3416140/)</center>

<center>At some point, 

Downpour fell as thick as dark oil, 

What's more, in my heart I realized something wasn't right, 

The line rang for the tenth time, 

Before it cut off. 

In the January storm, I ran, 

To our home down the road, 

As though the lights mirrored my expectation, 

They flashed above me. 

Remain on the yard and attempt my key, 

In any case, you've bolted the entryways from inside, 

I blast it energetically, 

Without any result. 

So I hurl myself towards it, 

Down it comes, slamming, 

Shout your name and hysterically experience the rooms, 

For an indication of you, 

To quiet my developing tension. 

As I advance toward our room, 

I feel the breeze thumped ideal out of me, 

Other than the bed, laid your oblivious body, 

Resting pills and antidepressants. 

Tumbling to my knees, 

I hold your slight, cold body close, 

Kiss your temple and urgently implore, 

To see those excellent darker eyes, 

Light in them, once more. 

Presently, I remain in the January downpour, 

Under a lead-hued sky, 

Tears recolor my cheeks, 

As they lower you dead, 

Thunder thunders, it grieves as one, 

Review your grin and our recollections, 

What's more, the last note you left me, 

"My dear, grieved, I couldn't love myself the manner in which I cherished you."</center>