A storm rages, growing in force,
the winds a haunting moan.
Mother nature the very source,
her tortured woes unknown.
The sky darkens, trees sway,
birds no longer singing.
No further shall the storm delay,
to unleash the hell it's bringing.
A similar storm wages on,
consuming my ethereal light.
My spirit's like a fragile fawn,
paralyzed by crippling fright.
Don't fret, for the light is strong,
keeping the dark at bay.
Only time will tell how long,
for that, I can only pray.
-b.m.
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