The lightest of rain
To soak
The brightest of pain
To smother
The darkest craving
To hover above
My manic raving
Broken spells
Waiting to sing
Joyous smells
Waves to swing
Up from the grave
Not a zombied soul
I can’t feel the brave
Courage as the goal
This darkness not mine
Retired from resetting the future
Disabled from finished line
This last leg’s last suture
All deaths are temporary
Internal ones hurt the most
Illusory blight so scary
Slow escape from my ghost
Afraid to say I don’t know
When all expect the answers
What about my glow?
Kind words as dancers
Again I welcome the rain
To clean
The fading of pain.
Clay The Scribe 