Lines Against Storms

Blowing storm, recalling whistling wind Reaching my ears, while it comes closer Phrases carrying on, having no end As tempest crawled to my door locker, Heart beating, racing the incident Warning my lines of forcing smasher Its role must be accomplished Absolutely with no compassion, Sentences are being linked As meaning getting warmer Shielding bleeding ink From outsider torture, Yet, the terrified moment occurred Swallowed each speaking sheet’s corner Though all copies stil kept, and heard For every part of me, is a recorder.