Clouds and Self Pity Lose Their Appeal

It shown
A small light
In the grey mass of clouds
That distorted and surrounded
A glimmer
A sparkle
Shimmering
Waiting for me to take a step forward
To receive the gift
I had been avoiding all day
While I sank into the darkness of my own making
It stayed lit
Occasionally flickering in the breeze
But otherwise unfazed by my attempt to ignore it
So I walked forward
After fighting with no one but myself
And received the simple gift
Of light
Somehow when the golden flame is near
Clouds and self pity lose their appeal