Even thunder would weep

Am reaped into the nether realms of grief
with piths embalming loves' corrosive drear.
Bemused; for worldly plush negates relief,
If woes be - known; how differed earths' veneer?

Verdure would tinge a molten shade of lime
the oaks will mourn their leaves, and cease the Spring's
with wilting plumes adrift the songbirds prime
and dim the sun as dark as lovelorn brings.

For pebbled hues of grey will shroud the skies
and cursive lacquer; etch this sickly mold,
the winds will howl forebodes of vows and lies.
No more shall grace; nurture upon this wold.

This suffered love cascades and dwells as deep
if even touched by Gods - would thunder weep.