Some See It As A Reprieve
Wind normally soundless starts to scream.
And clouds usually abscent crowd the skies.
Rain pours, a grey curtain falling.
Constantly falling, like me in this dream.
Until I wake and wipe tears from my eyes.
And when I finally do come around
What should greet me? Not the morning sun.
But a "picture perfect" image from my sleep.
Nothing near me makes a single sound.
All has fled but me, I've come undone.
I guess that's why I have been left behind.
As the curtain rises and the clouds part.
Revealing a huge orb of blinding light.
And I rise up, wondering what I'll find-
As death is not the end, just a new start.