STORM
Lighting streaks across the storm ridden sky illuminating a lone figure
He travels alone seeking for something, something he can’t find.
A purpose? Meaning of life? Happiness? He doesn’t know.
Mud sucks at his boots as he walks towards his destination unknown
Barren and twisted branches grasp at him as if trying to hold him back.
He presses onward; face grimaced in determination to go forward,
Yet his eyes read confusion and desperation.
His past creeps behind him plagued with death and destruction
Demons call out to him from the darkness surrounding him
Cruel laughter echoes through the forest as his demons mock him;
He has nowhere to go; there is no escape from the demons in his head.
Pulling his jacket tighter not in warmth but in fear of the uncertainty ahead
Descending into the swirling fog blinding his future
A cold bitter wind howls through the branches ripping off the last leafs ruthlessly sending
Them fluttering to the cold, hard ground like so many souls descending into Hell.
Rumbling thunder rolls across the dark sky followed by eerie silence.
The storm is unyielding and merciless as are his life storms
Searching in vain for the calmness and peace he desires,
He is blinded by ambition, greed and selfishness failing to see the calm that lies ahead.
Breaking through the fog he sees a cross on a hilltop
Drawing closer; the storm picks up heat, rain pours down as relentless as his demon.
Howling wind snaps branches as thunder continuously pounds the sky.
He senses his journey is drawing to an end, frustrated and discouraged with no answers
He wants to give up, but keeps trudging along weary and tired.
The path becomes crowded with travelers seeking answers for their own storms.
Asking about the cross a man spits and sneers. Another one mocks a man named Jesus
And warns him to stay away from the foolishness; just another god, a lie
Intrigued, full of questions instead he redefines his search.
Like violent sea waves breaking against rocks the truth hits him.
There is hope, a purpose, a reason; an end to the storm.
Dropping to the mud sodden path, people veer around him in disgust or disdain
Others curious eye him curiously with silent questions.
Rain sweeping away his tears, he looks up at the blood stained cross crying out in surrender.
Rain diminishes, grey storm clouds roll back flooding his path with light
His demons retreat screeching with anger, yet stalking, tempting, and waiting
Renewed strength and vigor his journey he carries on
New storms arise; obstructions, hardships and temptations block his path
Faith and hope as companions he defeats all
End of his journey head bowed silent he smiles; life storms are done
Peace.
Lighting streaks across the storm ridden sky illuminating a lone figure
He travels alone seeking for something, something he can’t find.
A purpose? Meaning of life? Happiness? He doesn’t know.
Mud sucks at his boots as he walks towards his destination unknown
Barren and twisted branches grasp at him as if trying to hold him back.
He presses onward; face grimaced in determination to go forward,
Yet his eyes read confusion and desperation.
His past creeps behind him plagued with death and destruction
Demons call out to him from the darkness surrounding him
Cruel laughter echoes through the forest as his demons mock him;
He has nowhere to go; there is no escape from the demons in his head.
Pulling his jacket tighter not in warmth but in fear of the uncertainty ahead
Descending into the swirling fog blinding his future
A cold bitter wind howls through the branches ripping off the last leafs ruthlessly sending
Them fluttering to the cold, hard ground like so many souls descending into Hell.
Rumbling thunder rolls across the dark sky followed by eerie silence.
The storm is unyielding and merciless as are his life storms
Searching in vain for the calmness and peace he desires,
He is blinded by ambition, greed and selfishness failing to see the calm that lies ahead.
Breaking through the fog he sees a cross on a hilltop
Drawing closer; the storm picks up heat, rain pours down as relentless as his demon.
Howling wind snaps branches as thunder continuously pounds the sky.
He senses his journey is drawing to an end, frustrated and discouraged with no answers
He wants to give up, but keeps trudging along weary and tired.
The path becomes crowded with travelers seeking answers for their own storms.
Asking about the cross a man spits and sneers. Another one mocks a man named Jesus
And warns him to stay away from the foolishness; just another god, a lie
Intrigued, full of questions instead he redefines his search.
Like violent sea waves breaking against rocks the truth hits him.
There is hope, a purpose, a reason; an end to the storm.
Dropping to the mud sodden path, people veer around him in disgust or disdain
Others curious eye him curiously with silent questions.
Rain sweeping away his tears, he looks up at the blood stained cross crying out in surrender.
Rain diminishes, grey storm clouds roll back flooding his path with light
His demons retreat screeching with anger, yet stalking, tempting, and waiting
Renewed strength and vigor his journey he carries on
New storms arise; obstructions, hardships and temptations block his path
Faith and hope as companions he defeats all
End of his journey head bowed silent he smiles; life storms are done
Peace.