Misery"s Flood

It came, after hours of oppression.
In torrents, in floods, drenching, beating down,
The earth was swallowed in the hallowed sound.

It came sudden, through the sky like a fortune teller,
Gave the predictions of it's ominious arrival,
The parched ground tense and eager for it's revival.

Tell me that my suffering is liken to rain,
And though I cower under it, I somehow may gain.
And not just cling to life in rising waters chilling my blood,
Until I get swept away in misery's flood.

It is constant, without any signs of stopping.
It pounds like a million angry fists, a million furious feet,
A massive army advancing driving it's victims to retreat.

It is unrelenting, coming down in piercing sheets.
The paths are flowing, the rivers rise,
Those who flee to higher ground are wise.

Tell me that my agony is liken to rain,
That I may climb to higher ground and be above the pain.
And not just sinki n deepening waters high above my head,
To be high above, somewhere safe, calm and at peace instead.

It's finished, after hours of wrath and fury.
The land is still, the air is cool, the sky is breaking,
The clouds flee and scatter at the sun's awakening.

Those who had hidden from it's onslaught are now returning.
Relieved in knowing the storm has passed,
Having faith through it all it couldn't last.

Tell me that this stuggle is liken to rain,
And that no matter how bad it is it won't always remain.
That I will see the end of the storm and have my soul released,
I'll rise high above misery's flood and reach the land of peace.