There Is No Understanding

He looked down at the cold, grey stone
of the step at her front door.
She stood weeping, asking why
she was his no more.
It wasn't anything she'd said,
or anything she'd done.
It's just, he said, it wasn't time
for him to choose just one.

He looked down at the cold, grey stone
of the bridge from which she leapt.
His mind told him he's not to blame,
but in his heart he wept.
Kids changed partners all the time,
playing at the quest.
How could he know her fragile state
was different from the rest?

He looked down at the cold, grey stone
of the floor of the sacred hall.
Alone he sought to make his peace
with the one who judges all.
If he could do it all again,
could he change her fate?
The question was just too complex,
the answer much too late.

He looked down at the cold, grey stone
which bore her carven name.
Why did this have to happen,
so many feel such pain?
He prayed for understanding, but
got silence in reply.
He shed a tear on the cold, grey stone,
and said a soft goodbye.

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