I have waited for what feels like a thousand years
For the storm to arrive
It hovers nonchalantly at the horizon
Waiting, like a lion hidden in the tall grass,
For the opportune moment to strike
The air has become so thick with moisture
So heavy, almost droopy-eyed
The darkened rain falls relentless in the distance
Too evanescent for form to take on any meaning
Like a thought that flutters and then passes by
The storm quivers, like an arrow held by an unsteady hand
The lightning, a jagged line that splits open the sky
The world flashes white for the fraction of a moment
And I hold my breath, silently waiting
For the thunder clap that never reaches these ears of mine
The wind picks up, almost as if the air itself fears the storm’s coming
The once fallen leaves swirl in their wistful dance
Beckoning, almost daring the storm to wander nearer
And then I know in a moment of crystal clarity
The storm has passed, almost as soon as it began
Here’s an old post I found on another one of my blogs. Somehow I just love how this ends, so I thought I’d post it here.
I am walking blindly
But I am not lost
For there is nowhere
That I want to be
There is no place
To which I am going.
I had come
To know myself
As the road wound
Round and round
There were rare
Glimpses of good
But more a mask
I wore than true skin
For I had to hide
My beloved ugliness.
My dark deception
Led more astray
For a mask
Is always misleading
No matter how little
But all realized
Sooner or later
Of my tainted soul
And they took
The first train home.
I stumbled and fell
But no mistakes
Could teach me
How to walk
Or maybe I refused
And my stubbornness
My ideas of life
Kept tripping me
At every step.
So now I stand here
All my ideals
And beliefs shattered
All my hopes
And desires forsaken
I long for nothing now
Alas, I know someday
I shall meet a fork
On this lonely road
And I will be forced
To choose between
Two roads of destruction
And tempted though I am
To walk away from both
I am only a blind beggar
Stumbling along the way
With no choice at all
For how are two roads
To a different monster
A choice in any way?
I know that dwelling in the past leads to nothing good,
But I find it hard not to look back and realize,
That with time I have become tainted,
That innocence, that desire to be helpful,
That want to make the world a better place,
Has faded into the background, maybe lost forever.
Maybe I have become too self-centered;
I behave as if the world revolves around me
That my problems are the biggest of problems.
Yet, I find myself confused, for I often believe,
That I have changed for the better,
I have become more comfortable in my skin,
I have realized that trying to please,
The whole world is pointless.
I have realized that there will be people who,
Disagree with what I believe, Or hate me for who I am.
I have realized that people will hold,
Grudges for years to come,
Even though they don’t even know who I am today.
Oddly, I’m perfectly fine with that,
I don’t care any more, since I realize,
Who I want to have in my life,
And who does not matter to me.
I know who those few real friends of mine are,
And I know that I can say or do anything
Without them misunderstanding or judging.
With them, I’m not afraid of being myself,
I’m not afraid of having opinions,
I’m not afraid of standing up for what I believe in.
Maybe they give me a false sense of courage.
I also realized that with time,
One can learn to overcome their shortcomings,
It is never too late to learn things,
It is never too late to be better.
Had I let such thoughts bring me down,
I never would have been doing,
Some of the things I love today.
And even if tomorrow I feel like I know nothing,
I’ll just give it a few days,
Decide to work on the things I lack,
And I’ll become better at what I do.
I have a thirst to learn,
And that keeps me moving.
Yet, I still feel uncomfortable knowing,
That I’ve lost that desire to be helpful,
That I’ve become content with life as it is now,
In spite of the pain and suffering that animals
And people all over the world face.
I also know this is a difficult problem to solve,
Maybe even impossible,
But why should that stop me from doing something?
I never was ambitious, I just wanted to help,
Now I am without ambition, just apathetic,
Without longing to do something good.
Sometimes I don’t even know if I am doing
Others wrong by having pity,
For I don’t walk in their shoes.
Maybe the world doesn’t need saving,
And I just want to feed my ego.
I long for silence in the depths of my mind.
The words are spiralling like snow in a snowstorm.
Slippery and hard to catch, leaving me watching,
As the crystals melt into nothingness.
Maybe it is better this way,
For most words are meaningless.
Except, some words seem to be balls of ice,
That leave behind bruises as they fall to the ground.
Frozen in this wintry madness, unable to move.
There is white all around me, pure, untouched.
I long to reach out, and feel the warmth,
Of these snowflakes, soft and welcoming,
Before the numbness crawls up my veins.
But there is an element of pain in healing,
It is easier to let my lids feel heavy and fall,
As I slowly lose myself to the numbing cold.
There is a despair in the howling of the wind,
As if every moment it loses an essential part of its soul.
The mind is trapped under an avalanche,
And does not know above from below.
I long to awaken and see colors, blue, darkness,
Anything other than this white idiosyncracy.
No, I just realized I have my words all mixed up,
The white is too consistent all around me.
The craze of the storm must drift into serenity,
The snow must fall sleepily, with a defined purpose.
I am still awake, my mind slowly thawing,
But the numbness wants to keep its newfound control.
The roads are covered uniformly with blissful white,
I want to move, but I have lost all sense of direction,
How long must a soul aimlessly wander,
Before realizing that it is not yet lost?