Aeryn's Lament

The wind is laughing through the empty place
that was my soul.

The thunder is mocking the inner darkness
that sickens my heart.

The icy torrent cuts the dry, dusty bag
that was my heart.

The rain falls down.
It soaks me to the bone.

There is no warmth inside to conquer the chill.
I feel that I should die

if I were not dead
already.