In a dark place closed in by night,
and lit up by storm, you admit to
your love and it is jerked from your
grasp to the thunderclouds it boils.
As it rips through the sky, the tornadošs
roar remind you of the hand that
stole your presence. You search in doubt
through despair, your mind entowers you
with darkness. Your embrace it has
escaped, through your barriers it has been
forced.
You look at the sky and hope for its fall,
because your memory of love is slowly
fading away. As the wind closes
the sky, you prepare to bury
the remains. you look relentlessly
towards recovery, for others that dwell.
It seems everyone is faint, this far
down inside.
Shadows scurry away avoiding your path.
Some die of starvation, others
display acts of anger, that encourage
rioting. The storms only threaten,
those who have lived in faith,
there is no easy way out, when they
are completely within. If you present
what is real, they wonšt live in fear,
for survival is easy, if they know
how to prepare. As the clouds live
their life, everyone must stand to
the ruin. The river that flows
empties into an ocean rich
with pain.