The rain brings with it thunder,
The two combine create lightning,
Which is something beautiful,
And strong,
And full of life,
You and I,
My favorite storm.

I choose to embrace,
And know grace,
With wind washed upon my face,
The Perfect storm,
The Love I have,
For You.

Within the mist,
Lies a twist,
A legend to be discovered,
Waiting to be found,
The forbidden chest,
Which holds,
What I know is best,
Purpose.

The water, calm or rowdy, comes in, slowly.
Swarming tides soon become too much,
Drowning me-
And I remain motionless,
As I fear nothing or, am paralyzed by fear,
No, the real movement comes when I am lost.
As I try to find my way time and time again.
Begging for the waters to return,
For true motion to return,
And for my tears to freely flow into the water once more.

My name is Jack.
I am a hero, some may say it is useless calling myself that, but it is true.
I have slayed monsters, and demons
Fallen in love a couple of times,
learned to spot the dangerous ones.

Although onwards I continue my journey,
To conquer unknown lands,
Discover Love- the one and only,
An imponderable Love,
That I know,
She doesn’t.

Yet, I will still go on,
For my name is Jack,
Slayer of monsters and demons,
Seeker of love.

What will I see
When I’m outside the Veil
Dreams and Desires
Failures and nightmares
Those I love and lost
A wall of disappointment
Or reasons to stay

Soothe songs clear my way.
Winds continue to whimper on,
Clouds cuddled together in the sky,
The showers start,
Water weeps,
And puddles prosper.

I don’t think I can be a loser anymore. Aspirations and dreams are just a carrot on a stick in front of my gullible face.  Money, health, wisdom and worth, are all shot. Love is just now lust.  Everyday is a battle tarnishing my brain with delusion and grandeur.  I don’t think I can take it anymore. The worm has spread. Burrowed through decades of hate and disgust, self-loathing and anger. Medication does not help, only deteriorates the burrowing for a couple of months. The worm still moves forward without any hesitation or remembrance of anything stopping it. It just keeps moving.  

It’s probably why I feel cold all the time now. The dark trail, flexible like a shadow, contours and covers my entire brain, changing memories to have a twisted taint coat add a glimmer of despair. My words are short and bitter. No patience to haggle over minor details or to listen to the greener than ever before envy.  

Tried looking for an escape and just couldn’t find one. Hours upon hours of endlessly looking for an inch, finding a deficit. Maybe that is the worm talking. There are those who love me but that just adds to the great fire of it all. Withering away so badly my visage is flailing, fighting more than me, to maintain its composure.

Even now typing this, just right clicking to find what is right, how I should write. Staring into nothingness scrolling on. My hope and dreams are gone. Will I move on? Before the worm is done?

Why should I tell you?
Would you care?
Would you help?
What would you do?
Afraid of the cold shoulder or a negative impact
For which it would break me in two
I cannot take it from you
I have experience in taking in the damage not known
A soul conflicted of what to do
Why I don’t tell you,
Is to save us all together