• The hobbled old healer sat in his tent,
    Waiting for another visitor to come and consent
    To a healing by a travelling old man,
    Who was worth nothing more to many than some well-used bedpan.

    As he was waiting for work, a young woman stepped in;
    Her beauty was astounding, no more than a maiden;
    And she sat in the chair opposite him with a sigh
    With which he asked her 'Why?'

    'Why are you here, young one? You seem not in pain
    From any unknown illness or some form of disdain;
    Tell me, child, what ails you so?
    A broken nail? A simple stubbed toe?'

    The last was in jest, but the young girl simply sighed,
    'Old man, you could not know the pain I feel inside;
    For what ails me is nothing more than a heart torn asunder
    By the twin Storms of Lightning and Thunder;
    If you truly wish to heal me, then hear what I say
    Nothing more I wish, than anything, this day...

    How do I start? Well, let me see;
    I was married to a man who hates me;
    But it is mutual, since I hate him as well.
    However, there is quite more to tell...

    I am in love with another, who is kinder toward me...
    However, I dare not see him, at my husband's jealousy.
    I'm torn between them, the forced love and the true...
    It is impossible for my heart to decide between the two.

    Is it not a sin to be wed to one and in love with another?
    How is it possible that I become someone else's lover?
    I cannot find any way to get out of this mess...
    So, please, help me, kind sir, for I must confess...
    I don't know any way but this!'

    She sank back into her chair with a groan
    After her speech he sat as if made of stone
    Some minutes passed before he spoke,
    And even then, it was with a slight hint of joke:

    'Child, you are so queer!
    To think that the world is under one slim veneer!
    If you have no objections, I might just say
    That you should leave the horror later this day!'

    The girl sat there thoughtfully twirling her hair;
    Until she stood up, and with a realized air,
    Exclaimed, 'I've got it! Thank you, Monsieur!'
    And she rushed out of the tent leaving him quite unsure
    She knew she was doing right.

    The young woman, later that night,
    Quit her husband and took rapid flight
    To her young lover's home,
    To the place where she would be always known
    As the woman who was torn by the Storm.