The Storm

This poem is about a storm that destroys everything in this person's life. Please allow yourself to compare the storm to anything toxic and dangerous that's in your life. Enjoy!

Dust filling my eyes, preventing me from seeing clearly

Struck down by the power of the whirlwind, I stand crookedly

The commotion, the chaos of the storm,

pours down on an already down-trotted soul

The rain washes 

the bruises across my legs,

the visible cuts on my callus-ridden hands,

and the painful, bursting blisters on my aching feet

The storm grows nearer

demolishing anything tangible

destroying any beauty in sight

everything that once breathed

Would I be saved?

Trees ripped from their roots

Petals torn from their blooming buds

Swirled from the ground, dirt contaminates the once pure air

My inability to resist the storm, feeds its power

A catastrophe before my eyes

Smiling at my languor,

It draws me into its spinning evil

I beg as I grow weaker,

Pleading incessantly 

But it snatches my last hopes,

And forces me to give in

Author's Note

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