There is a quiet feeling called Regret, that stirs inside me yet.
A pang from far away, a forgotten summer day.
A lazy languish in the pool of yore, a memory pushed to the fore.
I could yet dissolve in a mountain of tears, the giddy altitude of my fears.
I see the face, I feel the hurt. The heavens they are giving birth.
I remember you, I can’t forget. I try to, it’s not happened yet.
The strike of lightning on a calm day, the wind blows all the sea away.
You are the thunderbolt down my life. That one moment of unremitting strife.