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Candle Flame In The Storm

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Within the tempest of this world,

my candle flame burns stout and proud.

 

Storm clouds gather over my candlelit eyes,

yet they burn on… a powerful counter-gaze

 

through that grey overcast blanketing

what was once the warm sun in my life.

 

And then the rain of judgments pours down

in a torrid, merely beading on my skin…

 

but not permeating into my vulnerable soul.

If I were to soak up this storm…

 

and allow the hostility of others

to enter my still beating heart…

 

I would surely put myself in the toils!

Then would come abysmal depression…

 

aching anxiety, and the psychosis

would be worn on my skin

 

in the form of something

so ugly… so unattractive… so…

 

repulsive and revolting to the touch!

This storm of the world chases me,

 

and hovering over me, it will never end!

My candle flame, however, will burn on!

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