The Storm II
I watch the clouds as they scream across the evening skies
no beautiful sun set, only grey misery, I feel so cold inside.
The wind wails like the train on an old Johnny Cash forty-five,
and I jump as bright flashes of lightning trace fire across my eyes.
Pounding droplets relentlessly drum against my head, gluing my hair to my face.
Exuded musky odors of rain and fear filled sweat, from my clothes, I trace,
as the torment pushes firmly against me, urging me on, I look for a sheltered place.
Limbs on the trees rattle all around, as through symphonies of bamboo wind chimes I race.
For only a moment, I hoped in my heart, I might find that shelter in you
in the gentleness of your words, the tenderness of your touch, the kindness of your truth.
I know the beauty of you, deep in you, in your eyes, those beautiful eyes deep blue,
that sad, sad part of you that you can never share with me, the part I know, I knew.
Storm clouds cry in the dark of night as the deluge continues to rage
my sodden shirt creates a heavy embrace, my mind, a continual daze.
I trod through the flood of each street that flows with the stain of human remains
that float past the curb, as waters rise, washing the filth away.
If in the end this torment in me could cleanse my soul of this pain
my life would be worth every hour I’ve lost and each cold lonely drop of rain,
but all that I have is the next step I take, and what little hope that remains,
when all I want is to lie in this gutter while my life slowly drains from my veins.
02/25/2018
Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2018
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