The tempest fades, the thunder rolls away,
Leaving a silence heavy as the tomb;
Within the shadows of this quiet room,
I curse the pride that led my heart astray.
Sharp words were cast like stones into the deep,
And ripples break upon your gentle shore;
I vow to speak in anger nevermore,
For while I raged, I made my angel weep.
Let not the knot of discord bind us tight,
But let forgiveness loose the fraying cord;
No victory is won by shield or sword,
Save when we yield to love’s soft, healing light.
Accept this hand that trembles with regret,
And let the calm succeed the bitter gale;
Against true love, no storm can long prevail,
Nor make the sun of our affection set.
In the grand architecture of romance, forgiveness is not merely a repair, but a reinforcement. This poem serves as a gentle reminder that even the darkest storms eventually yield to the enduring light of a renewed vow.
