Walk With Me

Walk With Me Tonight the storm rages. Is it worse outside  Or inside my head. The thunder threatens  To shatter the window panes. My insanity threatens To take my life. As the lightening Slashes against the night, My tears fall faster than The rain plummets from the heavens. I can see Him standing  In the garden amidst the storm. A black cloaked figure, Wet and faceless in the dark. His hood pulled up, Shoulders hunched forward, Against the ferocity of the wind. A massive man, unafraid of  Each boom, every strike. He lifts one long arm. Extends it out in my direction. Come out into the chaos. Join me in the garden. Still crying, gasping for breath, I open the door. I'm not scared.   I want this. I crave the storm. I have felt it forever in my soul. Maybe it's my creation.  My own intention. The thunder is my pain. Crashing and rumbling  Always in turmoil and suffering  Because of my disease, my past. The lightening is my thoughts. Flashing bright as I always Overthrow right versus wrong Good over evil inside my broken heart. And, of course, the damn rain. I never run out of tears to cry. There is no such thing in my Head as lack of self loathing. But my garden, It is beautiful.  The one piece of sanctuary  In this hell I have to escape to. I will go to you. I will put my small hand in yours. I will let the rain wash my pain away. I will raise my face and close my eyes, Feel my garden shake with each clap of thunder. Open your cloak, Death,  Engulf me in its warmth,  Let me be dry, safe. Hold me in your arms. Walk with me. The storm ceases. Though the sun will never shine, There is finally silence in my garden.