Day 14: Homophones, homographs, and homonyms

The hour of “our” has expired,

I reluctantly close the windows , fold hands, now lacking fire,

Our love now nothing more than charred memories,

Amoral, immoral,  eternal wind circling in trees,

The duel our own duality,

I don’t blame you, I hope someday you can forgive me.

Image: https://fineartamerica.com/featured/colorful-autumn-leaves-art-prints-trees-baslee-troutman-nature-photography-art.html