Long Night Soul

It was going to a be an ugly end she felt as she rocked back and forth on her bed looking out into the rain filled night. The drops were racing, one after another down the window and misting it up to obscure the view. Loneliness crowded in, befriending her soul with the cold crisp rays of the moon blurring on the horizon. There was nothing left to do, no more to hear, nothing more that could be said in this dark hour, except for the rain echoing the name of death.

All was now lost to time and it’s hungry ways.
Resistance had not been the way. It only caused the mind to rage like the storm outside on the journey and to judge the world too harshly. For this there would be no answers. There had been no peace for a year, only the waiting, wishing and the slow terminal fading away. The night clouds wept by in the sky. There would be no meetings with Morpheus tonight, lest it let the approaching end step in too soon.
Yesterday now looked empty of its promises. The potential had shone bright in the clear light then, holding its precious gift. It had come in the wake of the echoes of words from darker times. Quietly they had announced a new beginning for a moment to develop. She had not seen the silent sword behind it that had also risen, awaiting retribution to shorten the life. There would only be the grace of heart not to judge, not to bring the whole of night down too quickly, and give time for the curtain to draw closed slowly.
The chant of the mantra would not cease within her head as she weaved back and forth. “Why always the lonely road to meet the bane of ones suffering? Why the quickening when the time is short, and not within the days when the hour is long? Why do only ends seem to fill the days with impetus to do?” She continued to sway with each word, her whole being succumbing to the movement. The rain was coming down heavier now, emphasizing every single word, cleaving her mind in two, to run and hide, to wait and stay, paralyzing it in its indecision.
Lightning flooded the sky outside, lighting her up for an instant in the darkness of her thoughts. She looked at the dark daemon clouds and twisted tree branches, mercilessly thrashing in the wind at the rain, clawing at the relentless torment with the leaves being flung helplessly about. Another flash and another instant, a frozen dreadful moment in time, more clawing and more hopelessness in the situation. All it left were shocks in its wake, one after another, impinging on her mind how life was just one quick moment after another, never being able to capture the fleeting pause for a halt. She collapsed backward onto the bed.
A spasm ran through her body as another flash occurred. She stared with her eyes wide at the ceiling and felt as if her back had suddenly been snapped in two. What more could she do that she hadn’t been done already? There was nothing left to give except what was left of the husk after the flower had been spent, an empty shell that could now only hold the emotions that now filled it and spilled over the sides into the dampening bed sheets.
The mantra started again. “Why always the lonely road to meet the bane of ones suffering? Why the quickening when the time is short, and not within the days when the hour is long? Why do only ends seem to fill the days with impetus to do?” The rain outside answered only with its echo on the glass and ran swiftly down to the sill to disappear into the night outside. The darkness closed in, cold and distant as the disappearance of the moon behind the hills leaving only the emptiness of the solitude.
There was only the self and the eternal night left.