A year. It had been a year since the poem Eiragerd had written for her own self. Somehow, again, this date managed to surprise her. Yes, she'd had further growth and goodness in the year between.
But somehow, on the very day she thought would pain her again, she was given unexpected blessing.
"Another one the crowds shan't be allowed to enjoy," she thinks to herself with a blissful grin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The day and the time
Which you thought you could taint
Has been restored
Despite all my restraint.
I thought that this time
Would remain to me
A painful day;
A tough-loving memory.
Yet, now here I stand
With new meaning herein.
Fate foiled your plans
And led me to him.
This time, and day,
Though he had no knowledge
Of what it was;
He sought for our pledge.
I thought myself
Healed through before..
Yet, somehow here
He heals me yet more.
"Never again!"
These, my burned thoughts.
"Such love must die!"
And I must call all shots.
Then here he came,
The one whom you despised,
He did what was right;
Not simply for folks' eyes.
In fact he hid
His many good deeds
As though embarrassed
To be bloom among weeds.
He did not know
The day which you tainted.
Yet he chose it
To be repaired and repainted.
Now I can say
You own no further part
Of distinct memory
Nor painful room in heart.
So thank you
For preparing me for
This beautiful man
Whom I've come to adore.
