In a dark place closed in by night,

and lit up by storm, you admit to

your love and it is jerked from your

grasp to the thunderclouds it boils.

As it rips through the sky, the tornadošs

roar remind you of the hand that

stole your presence. You search in doubt

through despair, your mind entowers you

with darkness. Your embrace it has

escaped, through your barriers it has been

forced.

You look at the sky and hope for its fall,

because your memory of love is slowly

fading away. As the wind closes

the sky, you prepare to bury

the remains. you look relentlessly

towards recovery, for others that dwell.

It seems everyone is faint, this far

down inside.

Shadows scurry away avoiding your path.

Some die of starvation, others

display acts of anger, that encourage

rioting. The storms only threaten,

those who have lived in faith,

there is no easy way out, when they

are completely within. If you present

what is real, they wonšt live in fear,

for survival is easy, if they know

how to prepare. As the clouds live

their life, everyone must stand to

the ruin. The river that flows

empties into an ocean rich

with pain.

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