he wondered why you ran away;
truth be told, you were afraid
those feelings that you have inside
(so difficult to make subside)
would manifest so tangibly,
expose this love that can't be free.
your motives may be questioned,
but surely it's not destined
for you to put asunder
the lightning and the thunder:
the flash strikes bright and quick,
and random does it pick
its victim from the bower
(hiding from torrential shower).
with flood of energy from above,
your veins course bold with love;
deafened by the boom
(the tolling of your doom),
you journey forth into the rain,
seeking what you can't attain;
lost in echoes of your pain
that your memories sustain.
the sweetness of that moment -
desperation does it foment;
so to look into his eyes
strips you bare of your disguise.
the love that you had hidden
belies the farewell you had bidden;
honest words seem some great venture
when facing possibility of censure -
for to speak the truth is harder
when love makes you a martyr.