Another night with stars unshining
begins to pass while I sit finding
that I can hear the coming of the storm.
So many nights have come and gone
with clouds familiar and shadows long
where I listen for the knock upon my door.
And no amount of morning sun
seems to undo the damage done
by the winds that howl and rage against my dreams.
In the basement of my mind
I've heard a thought softly crying
It says the storm is coming from within me.