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A Foundling plucked from the soiled streets of Liverpool
Escaping one hell, to enter another more cruel
Crossing the threshold to Wuthering Heights
The future entailed storming tempers & nights
Tall Dark & Brooding
His happiness precluding
His brutish manner and swarthy guise,
His disheveled clothes and deep black eyes -
Two pools of ink beautiful & burning
For Cathy, passionately, eternally yearning
Tall Dark & Brooding
His happiness precluding
All consuming, unending passion
Heathcliff and Cathy were of the same cloth
She grew lured to status & fashion,
He tried to conform, cruelly she scoffed
Tall Dark & Brooding
His happiness precluding
Dejected and broken, pained and chagrin
His love did not end, but hate raged within.
He left the English moors and vowed to return,
To torture and avenge his pitiless spurn.
Tall Dark & Brooding
A team of One, Colluding
Tall Dark & Brooding
His happiness precluding.
Delwen Doyle
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Delwen Doyle
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