I remember the sunshine,

Breaking through the cracks in the leaves
In the blanket over my head;
A gentle beacon pulsating
Like the beat of my Heart
Through the fibers of my soul.

I did not look back
To see my steps in the woods;
I walked down the path
Past the tall, swaying guards
Of pine and oak,
With the gruff reassurance
That the trail was clear
With no need to look back.

The pools beside me softly
Called to me
With their wordless, tranquil voices;
Gazing into the endless depths
Of the life beneath the Sepia,
I smiled and marveled at
What I would never understand.

The leaves rustled high above
Like Popcorn in a bag,
Butter dripping from my tongue like
Honey from a spoon;
A gentle breeze enveloped me,
Gently stroking my shaven face
Before losing me in its warm embrace,
Whispering softly in my ear how
Nothing would ever change, how the
Peace would never end.

I remember the storm,

The day when the warmth was
Gone from the world;
When the fog appeared,
Its chill coiling ‘round my ankles,
Their movement slowed as
The cold began.

The flashes of lightning
And the roar of the thunder,
All shattering the walls
And the barriers once so strong;
The coils tightened as
The fog grew thicker;
My shell shuddered as
I fell to the ground,
The footprints behind me
On the uncertain path.

The thunder struck, and
The rain began,
Icy daggers piercing the wounds
Which lay so fresh;
I quivered in the mud,
Suffocating in the fog,
Gasping uncontrollably in the
Relentless rain’s ambush
On my poor, depleted soul.

The scars ripped open
By the daggers from the sky;
I gasped and choked in my
Bloodless bath,
Unable to escape the torrent of silver;
“What have I done?” I cried to the heavens,
“Must the pain last so long?
Is there no mercy in your endless assault?”
I searched with futility,
But saw no life,
I saw no colors;
Only Gray;
And I trembled, flat on the ground,
Drowning in the endless rain.

I remember the sunset,

The day when the sky cleared
And the scars were left to heal;
I looked at the path behind me,
My footsteps hidden beneath the mud;
They shone stronger than the sun,
But I knew that I could
Never turn back.

The fog cleared away and
I heard the sounds of life;
The songbirds conversing
Far beyond my reach;
The quiet gurgle of
A distant stream
Beckoning me to its
Peaceful simplicity.

I saw the streaks
Of the distant sun,
An angry crimson
Dueling a gentle, pink hue,
Reminiscent of the battle
Which I had just endured;
I would never forget;
I would never be the same.

I walked down the path
Towards the setting sun,
Closing its eyes as it
Ventured into dreams;
I worry not,
For the sun shall rise,
Whether days, months, or years;
When the warmth shall return,
The cold lost in the night.