------The Drought------

I sit and wait and wait 
and still I wait some more
I possess no expectations
of some visit to my door
Yet still it gnaws inside me
a dark foreboding fear
Somehow I sense a warning
but don't know what or where
Could it be the end is near
but will it just be me
Or could it be that everyone
perhaps will be set free
I wake up each new morning
and like the day before
I still  have premonitions
of unknown events in store
At night I lie there sleepless
I toss and turn and moan
Please stop this endless torment
must I endure this fate alone
I spend the hours waiting
the days expire to weeks
I watch and  intently listen
when anybody speaks
I read of ancient prophets
and decipher what they say
Is disaster lurking
what year, what month, what day
The sword is in my ceiling
how do I get it out
Must I endure this anguish
this fear, this doom, this doubt
The seed is firmly planted
a cancer in my brain
I can see the clouds of darkness
but will it ever rain

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copyright © 1995 R. Wayne Porter