The Storm

Another night
Of the same old,
Same old.
It feels like it should be raining
To match the storm inside my head.
Thoughts float by
On the wind of rememberance,
The clouds a cage of forgotten heartbreak.
And when it rains
It churns the mud of ambivalence,
I gave my word I would never again
Relieve the pain.
But to see the red river flow
Brings the promise
Of abandoned anguish.
The waters of despair pool
In the outwardly hardened heart,
But as I dip my hand in the darkly ink
My consciousness glows.
It is a metamorphosis into perseverance,
A breath in to life
As sure as the wind speaks.
So nay,
I will not go down
That broken road.
How shall the storm turn the passing tide?
To let bygones be bygones,
But to never forget.