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.