Silver linings seek sad eyes.
Swiftly found around clouds,
Much slower towards dispelling doubts.
Thunder to clouds is clamour to the soul.
Life recedes to keep out the furore.
Closes doors. Huddles in dry-eyed pain.
The clouds at least can rain.
Will it miss out then?
On the fragile edge of hope,
Of light dispelling dark,
Happiness knocking at the door.
Will the eyes find their seeking?
Will silver light up their being?
Will they brave lie again?
Will it welcome them into its fold?
Stifling like before a storm.
Devastated like after it’s gone.
The agonising gut wrenching pain of loss.
An anguished appeal.
Be still my beating heart.
Oblivion I seek.