The Storm

The river boils and burns Churning the soil downriver Silencing the calm quiver Halting the anaesthetic shiver This fissure in the earth was the sliver of hope in this dearth A cool spring, the fuel to my being The Sun has set, lending its light for a little while And like the moon I hung in the darkness, absorbing its glow, enduring the vile My daydream of the daytime would engender a smile But now my nightmare of the endgame only renders a trial This river ain’t the Nile, it only runs for a little while There was only a mile till the end of the aisle The light at the end would only be a fire to contend The dark clouds swallowed the moon And the deafening silence sounded its eerie tune The leaves yellowed and the moods mellowed The foliage shrivelled and the sap drivelled The soil became barren and the animals abandoned The worms arise as the rain arrives Time removed the songful chime The hounds howled and the fiends scowled The beasts growled and the brutes prowled And while the divine’s care was undeniably there I’d go to bed every night to my ceiling’s blank stare The tears wouldn’t douse my fears They only suffocated my eyes with a blinding glare No one said that death was fair But some say there is life beyond this sphere My soul yearns for what my body will veer To reunite with her and be eternally near The devil laughs at his vulgar gaffe As he and his trustees squeeze my spirit His disease was made to displease As he plunges me into his hypothermic freeze The demons provoke all night Until I invoke in my Lord’s might There is no serenity in the storm No amenity and nothing warm The eyes that caused an indubitable hex Have now sunk into the world up next She rests as I rage She nests in her eternal cage Her red lips like the red rose have shrivelled from the pain that was imposed Her eyelids are curtains that are eternally shut She is wrapped in her perpetual clothes The world has become one with her gut From my wake she has been cut But in my dreams she manifests I see her as though she arose I feel her as though she resurrects And I bounce back into relapse Not watching the clock’s elapse Just waiting till I collapse So I may be raised to see her again, perhaps And while the world has left me with its scraps I watch every luring sign and endure every swinging axe My lace is untied And now it’s time to lace up Because even if the bride has died You’ll need to find the strength to get up