The Gathering Storm

I see the sweat born,
like a gathering storm upon your brow,
I see the angelic form,
of a girl I know.

She sits away,afar,
a stranger in my land,
She was once the very sun,
that I revolved and survived upon.

When those eyes,dark cherry brown,
when that brow,engrossed in a frown,
now look through me i am invisible to not just you..
but to myself too,
for what is the reason 
to breathe,watching treason.

Promises..promises broken..
all idle talk and token..
token love..token gifts..
painfully apart..the log's adrift.

I drift not to the end of the river,
to fall over the waterfall..
as I had believed,
But I am headed for another harbour,
to seek newer love,I am relieved.