The portion of my cup.

Outside lightning slits the night to sounds of thunder’s din. The heaven’s groan reflects the state of mind I am within. My sunny disposition’s lost. My mood is overcast. I’m haunted by dark visions of the actions of my past. My wails are lost within the storm, my screeches are drowned out. The squall and I are in a duel: Who has the loudest shout? A wall of water, sheets of sleet, confines me to my home. The tears I cry should tell to you I want to be alone. Hopefully the storm will cease, and I will learn to cope. Clouds will part to then reveal a shining ray of Hope. ------------------------------------------------------------ This is how i came up with the title: Psalm 11:5 The LORD trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth. 11:6 Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest: this shall be the portion of their cup. I am not a Christian. I am actually agnostic, but that doesn't stop me from reading many scriptures from the diffrent faiths. There are some nice passages, and this particualr one inspired me to write a poem. I read a friend's Bible the other day, and these verses seemed very apt regarding the mental state of mind i was in. ------------------------------------------------------------