Written November 2023
If I am so easily tattered and torn, bruised and beaten, sad and forlorn
Who holds the power, the key to go home?
The victim is raging the storm is within
I can’t fight the battle, there isn’t a win
But in the sweet essence of who I must be
A solar ray begins to lighten on me
The suns gentle rays can begin to warm up
The weather, the storm, the one that I lost
In spite of my folly’s the rain starts to show
That under the clouds there is this gentle flow
Tender red roses beginning to climb
The soft edges silken, so tender the vine
Where is the rainbow of my soul?
The one who clings to hope without letting go?
Each step feels like quicksand, each breath exhaled grief
The rainbow is coming. Hold on and believe.
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