It rained while I stood idle in my darkness,
Receiving pellets in torrents from up high
As I listened to the verbal bullying of the storm.
I stood still, ever calm to face this wretched tempest,
To watch it Keel over foundations, break down relations
And drown souls in a river of individual damnations.
I stood, restraining the urge to duck for cover, denying
Myself the warmth of another, and I watched this rain that
Was not natural.
It rained and I stood idle in my darkness,
Mastering the bitter cold for a sign from my master.
I longed for my release from my binding.
I waited for the command that would free me,
For the order that would send me back to my post.
I waited, for the voice that would praise my output.
I waited, I stood idle and waited for the sky to clear,
For the chance to perform my duty as the sun
To light the darkness that blinded my master, to
Ignore the darkness of my hollow sustenance.
It rained and I stood idle in my darkness;
I stood in wait with a calming duress,
Waiting for that time of calming showers and
The passing of the numbing clouds.
I stood idle in wait for my master,
During the time when her soul was in longing.
This rain was not normal.
It was never from the gods of nature.
It was my master weeping for warmth.