The Storm

Downpours of emotions restricting us,
from defeating the neverending storm.
Such like a hurricane, it forges on.
The eye of the storm can't be too far off.

Slow passing storm distorts our vision.
Will the haze glide by before it's too late?
Or can we move on, mistakes washed away?
It's never too late to begin again

Rain falls like the tears, you don't want to shed.
Heartache remains, from the cold lonely nights.
Empty table, no room for each other
Bitterness and lies now fill our bare lives.

Can a break in the rain, allow healing?
Or will the storm be our great finale?