Here I am standing in front of the headstone, placing the wreath that I had so painstakingly prepared, the vibrant colours of the paper flowers now faded, from a mixture of my tears and the raindrops that continue to pelt onto the ground.

Even the sky had opened up to grieve with me. The wind howling, it's agony visible in the way the branches of the trees groaned and creaked, desperately trying to survive the rage of the vicious one. The wind echoes of my sentiments. The sheer desperation to free myself from the emotions that continuously keep on binding me to you. You, the most potent silent killer.

Here I lay the wreath as a symbol to the love that I had lain to rest. As a memento to the times I was blinded by your game of words of which the rules were completely unknown to me. As a token of my innocence that I had lost, sunken in the pool of desire that you had so artfully designed.