The Tunnel

I know for a fact,

it feels just right,

so absolutely right,

there exists a deep long tunnel at the end of the light.

 

The gathering dark clouds,

the menacing shrouds,

the roll of thunder,

the bolts of lightning,

all threatening a long, dark night.

 

My face changes to a frown,

on the sight of the clown,

his exertions,

his contortions,

today just do not feel right.

 

The rays bouncing off the tunnel,

as in an inverted funnel,

pouring the woes,

in unmitigated torrents,

things, suddenly, do not seem so bright.

 

It is right,

so painfully right,

there is a deep long tunnel at the end of the light.

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