Lightning illuminates the gnarled branches
Of the old tree outside the windowpane
Rain trickles down the gla** in clear rivulets
But the storm inside is much worse than out
For inside rages an emotional storm
And those are always most severe
A man, all alone, grappling with his feelings
Twisting emotions of hatred, doubt, and pain
The picture most grim from where he sits
No hope in sight, he withdraws from the world
A metallic flash as the harsh fluorescents
Brilliantly illuminate the bitter end, serrated
Rain trickles down the gla** in crimson rivulets
The storm inside having run its course
Subsides and gives in to the howling wind
As a lone man lies motionless on gleaming tile
A smile stretching his lips at long last