When I was surrounded by rain, poetry found me.

 

When the horizon seemed too destructive, too dark, poetry found me.

 

When I walked into storms with my battle gear on, poetry found me.

 

When I was stripped of my armor, poetry found me.

 

When days and nights had no ending, no beginning, poetry found me.

 

When it seemed as if friend turned to foe, poetry found me.

 

When hope turned to ashes, poetry found me.

 

When I was my worst enemy, poetry found me.

 

When suddenly darkness turned to light, poetry found me.

 

When a tiny seed sprouted from the ashes of hope, poetry found me.

 

When my suppressive armor was no longer a necessity, poetry found me.

 

When I burned all masks, all veils, poetry found me.

 

When the colors of the rainbow shone down, poetry found me.

 

When joy was found in the rising moon and the morning sun, poetry found me.

 

When laughter sprung forth from the pits of fallen despair, poetry found me.

 

When I broke free of the frown always following me, poetry found me.

 

When hope was restored into my heart, into my soul, poetry found me.

 

See, poetry was my remedy.

 

Poetry was my cure.

 

At times, poetry was all I lived for.

 

Without poetry, I would simply be no more.