Never had the tears flown so easily, never were the prayers so necessary

The fear had built up as a dam during the storm.
The locks begin to break under the constrain.
The gates let loose and all fury runs whild as it pours out of her soul.

The fear.
The strain.
The loss.
The hurt.
The pain.
The storm.

The flow begins to ease.
The storm begins to clear.


She looks to those in which she loves.


The carpenters of her dam.
The wounds begin to heal
The dam is rebuilt.
And the sun begins to shine.