A Storm Is Brewing
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A storm is brewing.
Heavy water laden clouds rise thickly,
the darkening sun plunges quickly
behind deep purple mountains,
hiding the gentle moonlight
that normally lights my erratic way.
I meander absentminded
around a maze of mountain paths,
suffering a terrible purgatory.
For the storm is raging outside and inside of me.
Outside electric serpents flash across the dark skies.
Inside is an aching heart of old desires.
No tears flow as I think of you.
Foul fog screens my feelings,
suffocates righteous repentance,
murders my murky sinful soul.
Deep inside me
emotions mingle, then surge,
and dissipate in thin air.
By midnight the summer storm
has already well and truly broken.
Ophidian lightning blaze in the dark skies,
Crashing thunder booms and echoes.
Rain falls in heavy drops.
I am well and truly soaked.
Water, the sign of redemption enslaves me,
but I am not baptized anew,
instead I wallow in self pity.
There is no hope for me,
or is there? Let the storm decide!
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2021
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