Today’s swollen eyes are from yesterday’s tears.
The morning after, the problem’s still near.
It’s impossible to tear yourself from fear.
You pulled tomorrow’s clouds over today’s sunshine.
And hope it pours hard
that you may proceed to cry in secret.
Tears masquerading as rain drops.
Wailing cloaked in thunder.
As you conceal today’s pain, tomorrow yet again, you’re hobbled by a deeper grief and a louder cry.
In this endless parade of sorrows,
you look to the heavens and cry for help.
Your prayers ascend to the holy sanctuary.
And grace is imparted to your fainting heart.
