Today the clouds of troubled mind cloud a gentle sky,
and from the clouds the rain shall fall as I begin to cry.
The cursed ground will tremble as my sorrow you will know,
the tremors and the shakes intensify and grow.
The flowers of my gentle soul die from mindless worry,
trampled and crushed by the hurt of my own fury.
The pain and hurt I feel within adds fire to your eyes,
how can you truly listen to my emotionally tearing lies?
The darkness hides the sun's blessed light,
I long for guidance to end the fight.
You see the hope within me lessen,
and you can't help but begin to question.
You wonder, wonder...what can I do?
How can I be of comfort to what I see in you?