In the heart wrenching storm
eyes that see, cannot
through the dimming mist
of a dusk that unravels time.

Thunder clashes
as lightening bolts
representing our own
torment and fire.
The torment and fire
that rage within our
starving souls,
our starving souls.

How weak, yet powerful
is the hate
that tears through
our delicate flesh.
Wounded are we,
by the unmasked monster
that lives inside of us.

We are not
to let that guilt thrive;
we are not
to let our hate survive,
but to let the sunshine
that glows through our weeping eyes
be revived.
Smile
every once in a while,
for no storm
ever lasts forever.

Let our love be free,
and our hate be lost,
for we cannot afford
to let both
go unfounded.

In the end
of a heart wrenching storm
eyes that see, can
through the clearing mist
of a dawn that unravels time.