Stormy Day

Stormy Day

Underneath an empty sky, the land and hills are grey;
Murky, misty, moving clouds have locked the light away.
The sea shows no repentance.
The shore makes no resistance.
Whirling whips of water bruise the battered, broken bay.

Stricken breaths of stormwind wail a last and laboured cry;
Strain at sprays of seagrass as they listlessly slip by.
The blades no longer fear them.
The storm no longer hears them.
Slashed to shreds, abandoned, they will softly, slowly die.

Who will cry for me?
Who will feel my pain?
Who will share my sorrow,
And comfort me again?

Yestermorn, at daylight’s dawn, my darling danced the sand;
She played ‘catch-me-can-you’ at the seawolf’s salty hand.
The vicious, violent water,
It crushed her once it caught her.
Why she faced its cruelty I cannot understand.

Rents of ragged, ruthless lightning lacerate the rain.
Shattered shards and broken thunder crumple from the strain.
My soul is spent in grieving,
Her death, still not believing;
Raindrops meld with teardrops, falling, filled to full with pain.

Do you cry for me?
Do you feel my pain?
Are these tears of sorrow,
Or only tears of rain?

Still as silk, the distant ocean billows disappear,
Echoes of the mourning wind too faint for me to hear.
But streaking past the stormnight,
One silver touch of sunlight
Parts the clouds with gentle hands and dries each salty tear.


    I will cry for you.
    I will feel your pain.
    Let these tears of sorrow fall,
    I’ll comfort you again.


~Riorlynë