Storm in the Sky

I stood and watched the sun fell behind ominous grey clouds that merged against an obsidian night sky. Wind howling from every direction disturbing the peace of wilted leaves. Leaves that once rested upon the ground now rustled hastily across the cement of the sidewalk beneath my feet. I walked alone and listened to the trees. In a way, they were almost speaking to me. But Whispering sweet nothings? Or warnings of some strange passerby who might sneak up behind me this eerie night? I never did find out.

A drop of rain collided with the skin on my forearm, a harbinger for the storm to come. Ironic. The word that came to mind as I looked on to the coming storm as it is the epitome of what remains in my head day in and day out.

I turned my head slightly to find those ghostly clouds now gliding across the sky to shroud a luminous moon. I beheld the sight of the moon fighting the darkness refusing to diminish its shine. And then sighed at the sight of the clouds smothering that beautiful white glow, no longer being able to contain my emotions, tears that had now welled in my eyes trickled down my face and splashed into the puddles before me.

On that night I wept. I wept for the moon struggling to shine through the darkness. I wept for the sun suppressed by the clouds that made way for the dark of night. And, lastly, I wept for myself. I wept for the days that I held strong and pushed through depression. For the nights where tears gushed out of tired eyes, rolled down hot cheeks before crashing into quivering lips. The pain, the agony, the single wish. Not the end, never the end. Just, peace.