Turn back to face The storm that does not leave, For that is where you feel truest Without me. I watch from the clouds To sense darkness in the shroud That encases your temples, That throws over your light, Smothers your sight, In the agonies you face, in those deep dreams, In the findings you did forecast, before they came. Sing a song of round petals, Grieving waters to your hands, When covering your thirsty eyes, Lonely where they watch The storm at your feet, Created by the fallen droplets. Whatever you see Cannot help but to plea A storm to come calling Waters down to your heels When life has no more death to steal. You seem to weep whenever the sounds erase Any humanity from your heart, Watchful as the storm will start, As the rain descends through the currents Of all the wars you drown With the makeshift peace you implore. Magnificence is your elegance When life erases its own color. You are the bleach within the mire, Erasing color to grow higher.