The storm cloud race by me. But not a drop of rain on this dry soul. My age far exceeds my years for this struggle has changed me. Taken away my childhood. Like the sun wakes you up for a beautiful dream into the reality of the nightmare. It has been a long time since the sun last came to this words of mine. The clouds block out even the smallest glimmer of of sun the smallest glimmer of hope.
The pain of this world haunts me. Not even relinquishing its dark grip on me for the sake of a sweet dream. The clouds are always here. But the rain doesn't Come. The rain in which the sun shall be freed, and things shall go back to how they were. But the thunder cracks as the dry lighting strikes. No rain for this dry weary soul today.