Within the tempest of this world,
my candle flame burns stout and proud.
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Storm clouds gather over my candlelit eyes,
yet they burn on… a powerful counter-gaze
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through that grey overcast blanketing
what was once the warm sun in my life.
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And then the rain of judgments pours down
in a torrid, merely beading on my skin…
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but not permeating into my vulnerable soul.
If I were to soak up this storm…
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and allow the hostility of others
to enter my still beating heart…
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I would surely put myself in the toils!
Then would come abysmal depression…
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aching anxiety, and the psychosis
would be worn on my skin
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in the form of something
so ugly… so unattractive… so…
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repulsive and revolting to the touch!
This storm of the world chases me,
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and hovering over me, it will never end!
My candle flame, however, will burn on!








Powerfully penned, Daniel. Incredible write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian