Standing In The Rain

I stand in the rain and look up to the sky.
As wet as I am, soon I will dry.
But until this rain stops, I'll just think.
Let rivers of pain wash down the sink.
I scream in pain while my chest feels cold.
My body is weak, but it is not that old.
I hold my heart as cold as it may be.
But who in my life does it truly see?
How do I live with this rain an my heart?
Now I search for my preverbial start.
An angel and a demon sit on each sholder.
Their presence makes my mind much colder.
Both hold the same weight.
Both leave me in a state.
Going at this rate.
It'll be too late.
I look to the demon, and see promise and trust.
I look to the angel, and see damaged rust.
But in both I do see love and beauty.
But which one gives me promise to be free?
They both tell me things, not in competition.
It makes my heart feel like it's broken from fission.
The energy they give me compels me to go on.
But why does their presence, now, make me feel less strong?
How do I say, they're both a part of me?
How do I show them, my heart is my key?
Both are but questions, to one I must answer.
I won't take the easiest, for I'm always the lancer.
The cold from the rain.
The darkness of pain.
For now I am sane.
But once gone, never again.
Will they send me over the edge.
I know I stand on the ledge.
I'll do what I can.
I'm only a man.
Should I follow the light or the dark?
Should I wait for the song of the lark?
I search the dewed grass for a four-leaven clover.
For when this rain ends, my life will be over...