The Storm Within

Across the sky, a cannonade;

black-bellied clouds give chase

as lightning joins the dark parade,

and chill winds howl and race.

I bundle up against the storm

to ride it out until the morn.

I bundle up,

but in my soul I can’t get warm.

Staccato rain begins to drum,

the world now dressed in gray

as icy water sheets and runs

and washes hope away.

My silent tears fall to the floor.

As darkness has its way once more,

my silent tears,

my silent tears

run like the rain, from eyes grown sore.

I close my eyes and rest my brow

upon the window pane

and listen to the wretched sound

of unrelenting rain.

I say your name and in reply

no answer comes but stormy skies.

I say your name.

I say your name

then slowly hang my head and cry.

(a trijan refrain)