OUT OF THE STORM




The storm I called shakes the world around me,
its coming covers the heavens in a cloak of darkness.
You are gone. My world is empty,
void of all hope and dreams.

There is no safety here in the darkness,
no shelter to hide the me that trembles in the night.
You are gone, and with you the brightness of daylight,
no more sunlight, only the gray of the moon.

Rage builds in my flaming heart,
a need to strike out consumes my spirit.
You are gone, and there is no one to gentle the fire,
no one to soothe the beast waiting for the perfect time to pounce.

I long to find the vengeance my aching heart desires,
to unleash the contained force of my terrible will.
You are gone; there's no one to plead mercy,
no soft voice to break into my madness.

Strangers bend me to their purpose,
blinded to the me that howls with the voice of the wind.
It matters little to them that you are gone,
only the damned souls of the storm hear and understand.

Around my tortured being swirl the forces of destruction,
the storm is about to break and I'll repay the universe for my pain.
You are gone; I raise my hand, the storm intensifies,
out of the storm – a voice.

Riding the eddies of the storm, it calls me,
promising a way back to you.
I see the truth in those calming words.
You are gone, but not for long,
now that I have hope.

Mll 5/29/01

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