In the howl of a winter storm he could still hear her voice as it mixed with the cold icy rain,
Her ghost was by his side again, whispering truths made real by February's watery ways,
She spoke to him softly, again, through the night , the storm, the doubt , his pain.
He pushed her memory away as the rain came down,and wished for summers warm rays.
He thought of times when his sky didn't pour, a time before her specter found his vein.
Still the rain fell on his window and his night would not relent as she surrounded him in grays.
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