The Song of Strom

There's this little fragile Betwixt the escort. Trying to understand Their psyche, Their interest. Are they really the armours Or the aviary? And will the dust devil arrive, Rising from our own silhouette, Compressing the cage of ribs With the bludgeon? Illusion of something erroneous, Or may be some nave. Perfect guard, Guarding the heart, The cascade of truth For the so called panoply, Squeezing the heart out. Every piece of the jigsaw heart, Turning out into butterflies Dancing the dance of freedom. Breath breath breath, Screamed the chambers, Shouts the guard. Rushing the red ink To the fragile little heart, Pumps & paint the canvas, Red with pure air. They said it to be the cage of protection, And still the heart suffocated Bearing all the badger in love. So the kernel continued singing The song of strom.. (12th April, 2023)