A Storm for the Soul

The air had an edge to it
A blade in the heart of it
And sighs of painful deliverance
And blood in the shape of rain

Oh merciful, are you there?

There was a vacuum in my lungs
And daggers in my veins
Hails glory sounded
And gasps of feigned intolerance

But that you were there,
Oh, merciful were you there?

I am one out of many
The star in my spotlight show
A second within eternity
Am I not lucky?
Am I not fortunate?
Do I not care?

The goblets were raised to weak chins
Smiles as cold as their eyes
Draining merriment within their chasms
Warmth earned in the many that died

Bats sailing in the rugged seas of the skies
Birds clamouring for grip on these ice peaks
Momentum stilled - such inertia
A murderous thing, a murderous thing

The air had an edge to it
A blade in the heart of it