As they gaze into the water.

On this calm surface was once,
an affectionate reflection,
still and undisturbed,
the wind was generous,
while the ode of the leaves consumed them;
joyous.

As the rain trickle,
through the majestic canopy span,
the once faithful guardian,
seized to contain,
the tears of vile heart,
be looked unto with disdain.

Now the rain died,
and so does love, with it,
the surface lays dead and empty,
water drops taunting defeat,
ripples stealing reflection from the last of reflection's;
retreat.

Ahmad,
12.05.09,
"a nos morts".