On the late November wind

Came he, with heart on hold

Unaware of the ties that bind

In the late November cold.

He came a burble, she aflame

With a passionate heart

She said his name

Now, not ever will they part.

He was uncertain, at first,

When she spoke of her love

Afraid of a ne’er ending thirst

As she looked to the sky above.

On the Late November wind

Came to him an unknown feeling,

One that bent his heart and mind;

He found his whole world reeling.

She waited some days for him

To answer the question she’d asked

 The patience of her heart did not thin

For she knew her love was unmasked

On the Late November wind

The boy, in two, was torn

For, in his heart and in his mind

Another love was borne.

But, as the boy’s certainty fled

The girl, too, was torn again

As the boy-man tried to turn her head

Even though the scars he caused remain.

A month had not yet passed

Since the night her mind turned on her

The die that stopped, only after it was cast

A single revolution of Fate’s mighty spur.

She ended in a room of white

With socks for puppets on her hands

As the man with the pen tried in spite

To undo the damage of her demands.

“Kill my heart,” she cried that night

To the man-child who had left her for another

“Take my life,” she begged as the light

That would save her was torn asunder.

As the anniversary of this event descends

The girl who was, now a woman, reflects

On how, in a moment of solitude, she depends

On the decision of the boy she respects

And how, her life, saved he, that night long past

And how, since then, he’s saved it twice more;

She knows in her heart, this love will last,

Now that she has opened her heart’s door