Yearning for Light

The last two years of my life were probably the most influential out of the sixteen I've lived. In a time that I felt very alone and confused, I began to write a series of poems. Besides constant prayers, scripture reading, and journal writing, I found poetry to be a very effective outlet.
I still love poetry with it's symbolism and style. You can put what you feel into words in a way that you think only you may understand completely. It's the written explanation of how an individual uniquely imagines different aspects of life.

I wrote this first poem when I felt that I could not find light or a voice within myself and really yearned for them. I think I knew where to find them, but I didn't know how to approach the task.
Please read and interpret how you would like, and how it might effect you most:

She stood inside a broken room.
The air was stiff and still.
The sound of rushing blood
screaming, whispering: I am here.
The pitch black sky did not exist.
The moon was never seen.
Her eyes stood still.
So very still.
And turned a deeper green.
She listened for the silence,
but did not hear a thing.
And there inside the darkness,
she tried to hoarsely sing.
But nothing seemed to permeate
her ever-sealed lips.
But nothing seemed to permeate
the darkness of her grip.
She reached out to touch the blood
that ran deep through her veins.
But nothing moved.
And there she was.
Nothing in the room.

When all at once she realized
one can't see dark in light.
And all at once she realized
there are stars at night.
Persuasion is a wicked thing.
A trick by human kind.
But suddenly she noticed,
It was all inside her mind.
The darkness stood
and listened close
for thoughts it never heard.
For interruption by a force,
not even just a word.
The frozen cheeks
from black and blue
looked closer to the sky.
The ceiling and the walls of hate
melted as she cried.
The boiling tears
The boiling tears
burned her snowy skin.
The rosy hue contagiously
burned all through within.
The fire of the closest star
melted icy blood.
The fire of the closest star
evaporated floods.
The green eyes dimmed
and satisfied,
they burnt and roasted brown.
The warmth and love of colored skies
brought the hatred down.