Before The Storm
I sit on a chair in an empty room, alone.
My eyes nervously peer out the window, somewhere out there torture and doom awaits,
I'm in an emotional state.
Should I let the sun shine in or board it up with plywood?
Now candle lit
Why is my soul filled with so much trauma,
My life now a cyclorama created by mother nature resembling a member in the cast of this catastrophe.
I ponder the idea of it changing direction, and it missing me
Ohhhh natural selection, it's me, who it's heading for
Stillness of the sycamore
It's in the air, torment, I shiver
Tears flowing like blood in the central veins of the liver
I must be strong
I don't want to leave my stable
And get swept away to some godforsaken place
I'm physically and emotionally not able.
I won't sleep this night, eyes wide open
Loneliness, emptiness and sadness have now shaped me
I'm strong, being here is where I belong
Winds of change I wonder, can hope be found within this impending debris, a grain?
The thought of being pain-free
Sounds like thunder rumble over the hill
Not long now, raising eyebrow.
Power of nature, life's eternal tormentor
The aggressor, now shackled but I won't venture,
For I will stay and in my chair I will pray that there will be a better day.
Copyright © Jim Kilduff | Year Posted 2017
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