Battling, To My Fight For a Victory

Battling, To My Fight For A Victory Mornings of my storms are coming forth to emerge, consisting of a sleepy tempest that's sitting lying within. The storm in its quake I do not trust, justifying its fury's of these strong emotions, they will burst. I ask my Lord, is this what I need to face, why my Father, is this not easy for me to be set free? Is rage of historic anger I have again met isn't fair, for I lived my life in a senselessness of this agony. Why then can I not just let this go, is it, the pride of a man, with morals of justice that's standing in the way of his defeating? What's the lesson here I must learn, with this constant plague that I face, following me in desperation to be set free, and I too live again? This blame of rage, and all of it that follows along, how do I forgive me, coming at such a cost that I to relive? This battling with these demons I'm facing to write it down, clouding my way for they've opened doors of these rivers of my pain. There's a pouring of the furies that sit at its peak, hurricanes of insanity to the waking of my world, I do seek. Allows the lightning to strike, sometimes twice even with thrice, keeps me focussed, balanced, by the eye of a shining star victory battled. Riding at its thunder over the horizon of my day with a cause armored, brings cleansing tropical winds that calm the rage that its within.