When the looming gray sky drips, and your heart drips and your soul leaks, and everything is wet and you stand in the downpour and you cry out "enough, enough"... And you don't know which way is up. And all around turns sour and even sweetness turns to gall. And salty tears meet dreary raindrops and floods rise to the brim and the heart tips and spills out, pours out, unable to contain another blasted drop and swells rise and tides rise and overtake and breech the boundaries - causing comfort to run, so you shut down. - too much. You are too much.
dry mutedly, out of sight.
And all is well, at least it seems
and quietly, yes quietly,
peace comes to comfort in her dreams.
Yet in the darkness waves do rise
and beat upon her heart at night
and silently, her heart does break
and in the silence, there she cries...
And lead walls rise to break the tide and quell the flood
and salty tears, now inward flow
and wet from grief, wet from life, dry mutedly, out of sight.
And all is well, at least it seems
and quietly, yes quietly,
peace comes to comfort in her dreams.
Yet in the darkness waves do rise
and beat upon her heart at night
and silently, her heart does break
and in the silence, there she cries...
A beautiful sharing of your heart. God is in the midst of the downpour, as He is in all things.
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