(Written whilst drink)

Rain sets in and wind howls close, Leaves scatter as memories become scarce,
Blossom departs like all pleasures of mortality,
No tears trickle in the eyes of the storm,
Only whirling thoughts thicken,
A blur to the mind, An understanding within the soul,
A stinging sensation behind the eyes, And you have to wonder if any of it makes sense,
You have to wonder why we are even here You have to grasp a hand and place it close to your heart And realise that whirling thoughts have no purpose without feelings,
And feelings no importance without love.