By sorrow seized, by sear rejection stung -
but no more disappointed in this chance
than night in darkness: I'm not overcome
by feckless whim, or disaffection's lance.
I wept for Eden when I was expelled,
and longed for dawn throughout this bitter night,
but I was not surprised when shadows fell,
and I am not crestfallen by a plight
as blunt as exile. Here's my last approach
upon this twist of points I wish to make -
Silence may betoken mere reproach;
who holds her tongue does not her ears forsake -
She's leaving me, and I will surely grieve,
but I have always known that she would leave.
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