Solitaire

'Twas the slow and steady rain -

 the beat that laid a soggy cloak

on all that is, yea it did soak

all joie de vivre in it's soggy cloak:

she was, to me, like the falling rain,

each time she made me fall in pain,

her laugh was joy, her voice was coy,

her hand was hell-bent to destroy

all of the life that I did enjoy.

'Tis true, this story, this tale I tell,

of a love that was, the tale I tell,

of a life once whole, the tale I tell,

of waves of madness in which I fell;

Solitaire, my name was Solitaire,

for in solitary solace I thrived,

of my solicitude I was deprived -

now I stand mute in the driving rain

yea, my voice is cracking in deepest pain,

my soul is wracked by the deepest of pain,

if the rain would wash away my disdain -

all my disdain, that would be gain,

for this pain is a madding stain,

on the fabric of my sanity - a stain.

Oh falling rain, slow cascade of rain,

in the heat of pain 'tis I have lain,

the pain of it haunts like a migraine:

she was me, and I was she,

'twas of moments past, the comfort of we,

no more, 'tis indeed, no more,

it all faded with the mute sunset.