Please, I want to go outside.
No reason for me to hide.
The winds bring rain,
but they are tame.
I won’t fall or melt
if hail was to pelt.
I’ll be forever in your debt
if you allow me to get wet.
I’m pulling on my chain.
You don’t need half a brain
to know I’m ready to go free.
See what a great pet I can be.
Lost in the rain.
Ready to give up.
On the world.
Curled up in a ball.
Ready for my last breath.
Then the unexpected happens.
The sun comes out.
The birds begin to chirp.
A wet breeze hits my face.
I look up into the sun.
I don’t feel alone anymore.
I feel alive.
I’m happy I waited.
Waited for time to pass.
For time to heal old wounds.
I’m ready to face the day.
Please wash away my sorrow and pain.
Let it flow down the streets with the rain.
Dissolved in torrents of despair and sadness,
Joining others on its way past the madness.
The ocean may take it far away,
To places, we cannot even say.
Where no one recognizes its sting
Or knows the infliction it can bring.
Let the rain grow harder with its might,
Becoming hail on this fateful night.
I want to be free of all traces
Of unwanted feelings and faces.
My body grows cold from the rain.
It stands clean and free from the pain.
Shivers create a path down my spine,
As I wait in the dark woods of pine.
I hold my head high to the wet spray.
It becomes a mist of blue and grey.
The faucet has turned off for the night,
Leaving me feeling clean and so right.
Golden Hour by willyam http://ift.tt/2aItg9O
Lined up like sentries.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Eying the shore.
Storm at their backs.
Wind at their sides.
Sun setting above.
Sea ripples below.
Clouds rush in.
Skies open up.
Water rains down.
Quiet reigns supreme.
They quicken their tempo.
Winds pick up their speed.
They hit the sand with force.
A line of soldiers.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Jagged fingers slice through the air.
A dance of the gods for mere mortals.
We hold our breaths as they sizzle and play.
The clouds keep them in place in defiance.
The ground rumbles in dismay at their power play.
The wind and rain fight to divert their direction.
Their aim is compromised by their enemies.
They hold strong and band together.
But the gods and nature block their path.
The earth is saved from ruin on this day.
But they’ll be back again another day.
THE DEAD AND GONE
A town where the snow is black,
bringing coldness and fear.
Old remnants of tears held back,
and times too hard to bear.
Woven from black sheets of rain,
fear covers in disarray.
Anguished and frozen with pain,
dark petals fall in dismay.
Hell has come to Oasis,
The Dead and gone at its side.
Now hidden behind faces
that are well-known far and wide.
The air feels thick,
Laden with moisture.
Clouds roll in.
The sky grows darker,
Then you hear the first drops.
The water pounding on the roof
in a staccato melody of its own.
Pound, pound, pound.
Tap, tap, tap.
The rain washes our streets
and clears our minds.
Preparing us for a new day.