Standing against the blinding sun
my proverbial sword raised,
I howl at the overbearing light
that dares stand in my way.

Screaming
even after my voice has gone.
Wailing
after everyone else has turned away.

The futile nature of my rage
never seems to occur to me
as I stand my ground against
an unflinching aggressor.

"It must be you!" I cry
"Who else would hate me so?
Unforgiving wretch, you are!
Accursed blight upon my soul!"

And I swing blindly
small, insignificant fists
sinking into fiery blood
but it stands still, unharmed.

And I'm falling desperately to my knees
hot tears staining my cheeks
facing the sun
all I have to blame
for a broken heart.