Sweetness and softness

are friends seldom hear from.

That’s why I sip sorrow

from the bottom of my soul.

Till I’m gathered cognitively again; intertwined with death’s hold...

I quit running from the rain,

when trouble found it’s way.

Into my heart, beyond my eyes;

now I’m bleeding with demon lies.

So far, most everyone I’ve ever loved,

has dug their way to the skies above.

I’m tainted, taunted, tormented.

Standing with the thunder,

that breaks inside my chest.

There’s an ancient evil

that haunts my broken nights.

Taking long silent gulps

from my teary plights.

Blood shot, curdled;

it found my lost life.

At the bottom of a lake,

that shines the color of fright.

But I’ve since found it’s better,

not counting my days.

So much better,

since I stopped

creating from the rains...

-HMG