A Rare Late Night Post

And some say, he was like a tornado.
And some say, she was a driving rain.
And they say, ruin and destruction,
Would follow them to their grave.

And some say, that those two storms collided.
And some say, nothing would e'er be the same.
And they say, that unhappiness followed,
Death was all that was left in their wake.

And some say, those fronts they did crash and burn.
And some say, nothing was left of their names.

But they say, when clouds opened in the morn,

They found broken all their shackels and chains.