Walking the path in a thunderstorm
rain on her face, trying to keep warm.
A thoughtless haven, soothing and cool,
Feet fall heavy through the muddy pool.
Far away, she's seeking home
her spirits drenched right to the bone.
Lightning splits the sky above
echoing sweet thoughts of love.
The moody journey rather bleak.
Thunder dancing, silver streaks.
A place to breathe, its freeing pain
to run and scream and drink the rain.
She welcomes danger, does not care.
There's freedom when she dares to dare.
The Lamb was slain. He knows the pain.
He's been out dancing, kissed the rain.
No one here to make demands
hidden 'neath the trees command.
Running faster, whipping trees,
stumbling, falling to her knees.
Can't go on. She cries no sound.
Unashamed, she's lost and found.
Wrenching anguish, sobbing release.
Spent and exhausted she slips into sleep.
Quietly now, rain steadily falling.
Just wind in the trees and nobody calling.
She sleeps in the muck, no one near to stare.
In pain and in freedom, she did dare to dare.