On The Wings Of A Storm Poem by Sven Rhoads

Dark silence concealing the words left unspoken
A room full of walls and the unending thoughts
Left on my own with these chosen devices
A suicide for others but for me its but a token
Too many people with their pseudo faces
What more can you do when no one is real
I look to the sky with the stars burning bright
And dream away of all those different places

When tomorrow becomes more like yesterday
And the knowledge of it all feeds the sorrow
The moon is all that chases the shadows away
But the black hole keeps me feeling hollow

I want to ride on the wings of a storm
To breathe in new life and again be born
Existence is not enough to appease my soul
For the battle I fought I have taken their toll
I want to fly away to a place that's called home
For this dead heart in my chest feels like a stone
The sickness impaling my will to believe
That out there is a place that's perfect for me

With my chest now hurting like a knife has been thrust
Trails of broken glass have left me no trust
I shout to the sky 'Is this a game to you'
I must force the hand cause I'm too tired to rue

Working each finger down the bone
A scream in mute among the thousands
Always alone but never so lonely
The unacceptance has come and shown
Silent is the road that is always less taken
Barely a footprint has been laid in time
As the storm is coming beyond the horizon
I will spread my wings and not be forsaken

When the future is blank as the canvas
And the windows are painted all black
I feed fire to possibility expanding
For here on there's no turning back