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!









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