The storm has fled, and silence takes its place,
A heavy shroud upon the weary heart;
‘Twas foolish pride that tore our souls apart,
And cast a shadow on thy gentle face.
Behold my vanity, how low it lies,
Dissolving like the mist before the sun;
Of all the battles lost and victories won,
Naught equals one soft glance within thine eyes.
Forgive the rashness of an idle tongue,
That spoke in fire but to burn the air;
I come to thee in sorrow and in prayer,
With every chord of spirit all unstrung.
Let not this discord linger in the mind,
For love is greater than the need to rule;
I played the part of tyrant and of fool,
Now seek thy grace, most tender and most kind.
In the tradition of the Romantic era, this poem elevates the act of apology to a spiritual necessity. It acknowledges that human pride is transient, while the bond of love is eternal. By using Iambic Pentameter, the rhythm mimics the steady, returning heartbeat of a relationship mending itself after the chaotic arrhythmia of a dispute.
