STORM

by Andrea McKinnie

 

RAINDROPS THAT FEEL LIKE DAGGERS FALL UPON MY HEAD

THEY’RE INVISIBLE, BUT PAINFUL.

 

I’M CHOSEN BY GOD

BUT I HAVE BEEN TARGETED BY THE DEVIL.

 

MY HEAD IS USED FOR DART PRACTICE;

ARROWS COME AT ME FROM ALL DIRECTIONS.

 

I’M FALLING, SINKING–

THERE IS A STORM INSIDE OF ME.

 

A STORM TOO STRONG FOR ME TO CONTROL-

A STORM TOO POWERFUL FOR A HUMAN TO UNDERSTAND.

 

EVEN THOUGH THIS POISONOUS RAIN KEEPS FALLING UPON ME AND

EVEN THOUGH THE THUNDER OF THIS STORM SHAKES ME UNTIL I CAN BARELY STAND

I WILL CONTINUE TO LIFT UP MY HANDS AND GIVE GOD THANKS

ALTHOUGH VOICES TELL ME I AM DOOMED

AND VOICES SAY THAT THIS STORM CANNOT BE SURVIVED

I BELIEVE THAT GOD WILL SAVE ME FROM THIS STORM

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