Tempest

Tempest Rain drops falling rhythmically wash away my salty tears, and gusts of wind graciously conceal my desperate cries. Booming thunder drawing near forestalls my many fears as lightning lifts away my pain then tears through troubled skies. Darkness cloaks my worries and banishes them to the night, but they will find their way to me before the break of dawn. If the comfort I seek from the storm feels so safe and right, why does the tempest within me feel perilously wrong?