A Choice

Those storms that lurk like quiet waves a furry
over the distant hilltops know
not what power truly rests in their hands.
They breath but do not think.
They rave but do not perceive.
Clouds linger in every corner,
ready to crack and break everything that dares to cross their path.
You must know that those storms travel without mercy
and, if you chose to take the winding road
that leads further into their heart,
you may not reach the other side.
The wind can drag the very breath from your lungs,
the rain could stain your skin in sheets of toil,
washing away every last pure thought.
If you make the choice to press on,
I pray you know that there shall be no return
to who you are or who your mind envisions you to be.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

washing away every last pure thought.
Nice write.

[Mauricio Montoya]

nice work, like how it comes together, they say water cleans the soul.

[Crazy Cat Man]

fitting that i am reading this poem while im in a rain storm stuck in a starbucks. great piece. so many metaphors used here. well done

[Empirik]

This is great! I know this very well! I have a themed atmospheric minimal stormy weather dubstep mixes that express very similar lines of communication, although not for all, if you are interested mail me and I will send you a downloadable link.

I love the tone of this write. It expresses depth in the lines read. I could recite many lines, and as Fall is coming in my part of the world, pure thought does press on. Thank You! I enjoyed this! :)