When it struck, it struck my heart,
With a force that tore my doubt apart.
It ripped through my soul like a violent gale,
And when it was done, I was left with no sail.
Shipwrecked upon my own shores,
Marooned on the island of my bathroom floor,
She was the hurricane, the typhoon and cyclone,
And when she was done, my life was not my own.
My only strength was in her hands a weakness,
The foundation of my health brought me great sickness.
Off the precipice, I fell in slow motion,
And when I was done, I had no emotions.
Now broken into pieces, I defy repair,
Help is but imagined, for no one really cares.
I loved, not wrongly, but without depth of thought,
And now that we are done, my hopes have come to nought.