The treatment of doom

leaves me left in the gloom

of a day badly spent

and a life cruelly rent.

A storm cloud burst,

a lightening bolt cursed,

by night my demise,

by light I surmise.

So, so little I know

eyes turned down below.

Then, a glance to the skies

and I see my great prize,

the sun it does shines

and on beauty it dines,

the colour of summer

makes my heart murmur

a merrier more melodious tune.