No metaphor will tell it
Although I convince myself within the moment
That it will last

That the clouds above my head
The howling wind which I adore
The summer rain and the glorious morn
Will indeed last

But they never do

Because no metaphor can contain
Or stretch it over the canvas to fit
Or even begin to properly paint
This representation known as you

You simply are, as simply is
Beyond the metaphor
Within the shadow of a moonlit truth