Noise

In this noise,
this screaming noise,
that feels so very quiet,
in the fact that only I am seem to hear it,
seem to slip away from it in fear,
seem to lose control at it's peak,
no one else seems to notice,
that it's fighting for control,
no one notices it,
as it rings,
and tones,
in a thousand little ways,
that no one can explain.
So,
when I find,
that this ringing,
that thunders through me,
like the edge of a wave,
or the barrier of an emotion,
like the fire,
that dares lick at corners of ones being,
like the lights that dare dance,
in the distance,
of the forest,
where they seem to flutter,
in the eternal wind of deep undeniable joy.
You're the light,
in the depths of those darkest hours,
the blade,
that cuts the rope,
the hand that pulls me back,
from that edge,
the love that seems,
in all its trouble,
to save me,
from that dark thought,
of losing myself,
to the darkness,
when I should always survive.