Her soul

If a sunrise,
Causes blue skies,
And the haze,
Of a sunny afternoon,
Then a rain cloud,
Should it not,
break true love's knot?

I hear you scream no,
To this abominable plot,
Of ending the love of your life,
But, young sir, hear me out,
Isn't pain what life's all about?

You can dream and you can ponder,
But life just isn't the same,
Without this bittersweet taste,
Does it not all just go to waste?
For dreams are not without soul,
(Whether or not they have a goal)
But, I put it to you, is that the best thing to do?

There is nothing more painful,
Then when your soul is torn,
You feel naked as the day you were born.
But, what kind of a demonic character,
Would place that upon another?
So, Young Sir, When the rain clouds come,
Her soul is in your hands.