Dirge of the Weeping Sky

Rain, rain, come and play,

wash away another day.

Paint the skies in somber gray

to match the way I feel today.

Thunder rattles my window pane.

violent percussion, the storm's refrain,

tempestuous cadence, echoes growing.

Hell, maybe I'm better off not knowing

why these voices come and linger

like fairies dancing on my finger

filling me with drive and ambition,

summarily destroyed by failed fruition.

It's not like I don't desperately try.

Something causes my mind to petrify.

As if that wall of blue-lined white

would scoff at every word I'd write.

Rain, rain, come and play,

wash away another day.

Though I yearn to fly away.

Shackled down my heart will stay.

I'm stuck in this role but I can't act

and nothing is ever enough to distract

these toxic thoughts of inability.

How I long for but a breath of serenity.

A single candle isn't enough light

to guide me through the darkest night.

Distant torches blaze in every direction.

If only I wasn't primed for their rejection. 

Into the weeping sky, I turn and stare.

Maybe the world really isn't fair...

Honestly, should I even bother

stopping my demons from their slaughter?

Rain, rain, come and play,

wash away another day.

Cleanse these scars from yesterday

so perhaps, tomorrow, I'll be okay.