The Storm
By Elizabeth kaczocha
The rain clouds my eyes. The thunder shakes my body. The lightning shows every imperfection on my work, weary face. The tap, tap of the rain drops over my head sooth my disheartened thoughts. The rain washes away everything, leaving everything new and clean able to start again. If only it could wash me free. I feel the weight of my pain like I'm carting the weight of the world on my shoulders. It drags me down. I'm so low now that I fear I will never again see the rays of light after the storm. The rain pounds at the windows, as your words pound my soul. The hail might as well be hitting me and me alone, just as your words beat me down. The Storm rages on, while I sit and watch. Too afraid to move. Maybe if I had hidden when the storm started I would not have to watch as the storm grew closer. Maybe I would feel warm and safe. But I didn't and I don't. The wind whips through the trees, knocking over the weaker ones, like me. The wind pushes me to do its every whim. I am thrown around like I am nothing more than a child's toy. The Storm rages on outside while a new storm begins again on the inside. I am battered and bruised by the destruction left from the storm. The rain and hail have gone on their way, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. The sun may have come out, but I can't see it. How I wish I could see it, even just to feel the warmth of a single ray of light. But my own storm still rages within. The light of day is no where to be seen. The Storm shows no sign of stopping. I just hope I make it out of this storm alive. Even if it's just for a moment, only if it's just one ray of light, I would gladly welcome that light into my heart. Let it surround my soul. But the storm rages on...