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Sorry does not Justify Written Woe

In a time like this, apologies
are as meaningless as a sun
within a storm, the howling
gusts of a tempest so
terrifying it frightens the
Heavens away, being no
place for the burning
embers of our nearest star.
If only there was but a
moment when I could
glide upon a torrential
breeze, and fly beyond
the cloud cover towards
where the purest blue of
the aquatic sky becomes
the deepest shade of our
black stratosphere, I
would never need to speak
the words which would
grant me with forgiveness,
for never would the eyes
of thee ever fall upon
mine again. Could my
sinful nature really be so
cruel, as to earn the wrath
of a punishment, the
ramifications of which
words could barely
comprehend? Cannot a
simpler conclusion
validate the once youthful
feelings which cascaded
across the plateaus that
ran throughout our minds,
synchronised by a
connection more
endearing than
romanticism itself? What
we once shared however it
seems has been heinously
razed to the ground, and
no manner of excuses will
ever promptly justify that
which ended with  much
disapproving woe, the
briefest of serene