The Inside Deep

What if I were to write a story?

Letting the emotions bubble 'til it's stormy,

Waiting 'til each gust and wave form.

To paint the picture of the inner storm…

As each wave rises higher and higher.

Whilst the only light itself is a liar:

Lightning kills 'stead of showing the way.

And it only appears in the night, not the day. 

With each gust of wind comes many more,

A force that rattles you to the core.

Once you're steady you'll then search for the pain

To understand whether that's tears or the rain;

The deep, murky depths would reach out to you,

Trying to give you a big hug, too. 

The clouds would watch, full and grey,

As you find yourself in the position of prey. 

You to try to run, to hide, to swim, 

Only for you to find: it's all a whim.

After all these are just words and lines

Forming an image (or just an outline).

The meanings have formed images you'd notice.

Because when it was just words, you didn't focus. 

These are the words to describe.

What's going on in the inside.

As your boat of safety rocks.

You're forced to finally pick at the locks –

The ones that lead to the forbidden doors

That have been banished by your made up laws.

You must fight the demons that'll come –

This is what proves too much for some.

But it's only when this mission's done.

That you may no longer be numb;

Only then can you experience calm that's sound.

There! The stories been found!