Storm

Another poem born from a lack of humanity and an expectation of loss, but then again, lots of things are born from that.

A thrashing gale of damage in its wake,

The hours, days and weeks are lost in fear.

Their lives not spared, now natures’ to forsake,

The storm did rage, and now the visions sear.

The buildings trembled, violent winds did howl,

True tyrant forces pillaging the weak.

Distraught were many, forces strong did scowl,

They left no man to stand above their peak.

To end, the darkness opened up to flood,

Our liquid pain did rush to meet the ground.

The waves of red, the flow of spilling blood,

Did leave us fading, war shall come around.

Now stand with me, repent the rising foe,

Avenge the fallen, yes, it’s all I know.

Author's Note

I can appreciate harsh criticism, and I don't have a belief that any of this writing is worthy of being called a masterpiece. I would like to further my writing ability though, so feel free to tear this poem apart, or appreciate it, it's up to you!