Strange, I saw thee standing in the pouring rain, <br />So quiet as the rain mingle with thy tears; <br />Untouch by breezing cold that veil in pain, <br />No expression yet eloquent, indeed without fears. <br /> <br />The cold and rain moistening thy flesh in vain, <br />And recounts thy amorous tale that wrung; <br />Solely tasks for thee as human not saint, <br />Indeed, bliss is thy replies as heaven sprung. <br /> <br />Even though the rain stop, thou standing still, <br />As if thy soul vanished while thy flesh remain empty; <br />A follies mark of imprudent freewill, <br />Placed thee next to me in sense of guilty.<br /><br />Instalasi Sastra<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sense-of-guilty/
