My Mournful Heart

*<A short story on a poem>*

A Dirge (by Percey Shelley)

Rough Wind, that moanest loud

Grief too sad for song;

Wild wind, when sullen cloud

Knells all the night long;

Sad storm, whose tears are vain,

Bare woods, whose branches strain,

Deep caves and dreary main,

Wail, for the world's wrong!

There I stood, alone in the darkness, weeping. Surrounded by what used to be a mansion. No longer were there luxurious lounges to site upon. No longer were there hand woven carpets to lie on. Not even a fireplace to keep warm. The only thing that remained was the cold white marble floor, covered with dust. The walls were falling apart around me. I gazed up at the stairs. One thing still remained, a single rope. Tied tightly to the rusting balcony above. Swaying back and forth like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Counting what little time I had left.

I rambled slowly towards the staircase. It wasn’t always like this. I was once rich and powerful a leader of lands. People begged me for money. People worshiped me, their leader. As I drew closer, thoughts galloped though my mind. As a child my parents gave me the proper education. I learned etiquette and manners. I used to play in the endless meadows of flowers. I can still smell their delightful fragrance. All day long I frolicked with friends. So young and innocent, with not a care in the world.

College was the hard time. You had to study hard to get what you wanted. There were crooked people who paid their way through schooling. My family was struggling to pay for my education. We were the lower end of the middle class. Struggling to stay alive and keep everything balanced. One day I decided to cut class and explore nearby streets. I treaded aimlessly, finding myself at the steps of a mansion, wishing one day I could live in such luxury. The front door was made from hard wood with intricate carvings all over. The glamorous garden, filled with pulchritudinous plants. Winding vines covered the mansion, top to bottom.

As I gazed up, there stood an angel, a breathtaking beauty. She stood there ever so gracefully, staring into the distance. Her green eyes shone in the sun like emeralds. Her long blonde hair undulated in the gentle breeze. She didn’t notice me. I hastily hid behind a small shrub. She couldn’t see me like this. Dirty, untidy, hideous. I hurried home, all the while thinking of her. Pondering if I would ever see her again. She crowded my thoughts. I couldn’t get her out of my brain. I must see her again!

That night, when the moon was high in the sky, when all was quiet and calm, creeping out of bed, I smoothly opened the balcony window. Ever so gracefully I climbed down the balcony to the grassy ground. From there I covertly roamed the streets until I found myself, once again, at the steps of the mansion. A light shone from the second story window. The window of the fair maiden. I walked to the wall just below the window. I held tight to the vines and lifted myself to gaze though. There she was, sitting upon a chair, gracefully brushing her hair. Even seeing that sent a chill down my spine. Butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. My heart started to beat faster, faster. Then and there I knew she was the one. The only one I could spend the rest of my life with.

I discovered she knew I was