Soul Rocket

when the trickle becomes a torrent

a runneth over of the cup

so to speak

when the hell bound

are delivered back to this plane

when all the right is out of place

and disjointed

when all the night is a veil of tears

and disappointment

when the stillness is absolute

and beyond dispute

the sun above me burns

and the words inside me yearn

to be freed

to be heard

to be saved

the sun still burns

and this bubbling madness within

cajoles, pleads and begs

it tries to take me

it threatens to break me

it promises to make me

but not to forsake me

when the trickle becomes a torrent

i try to hold it with both hands

when the torrent becomes a deluge

i bask in its abundance

i revel in the glory of the deluge

and hope

it will stave off the dry