deepundergroundpoetry.com
THE SLEEPER IN THE STORM
Downpour
Torrential rage, plummets
Heard the screams
Through the pounding
On the roof
Not human, not beast
And the shallow breath
Enfolds around the throat
Subtle collarbone caress
That paralyzes
It is the fear of death
Made tangible
As it has always been
In the form of those
Millions of tears
That fall into empty hands
That death so readily available
None dare to brave the storm
And so we remain slaves to hunger
And the thunder
Traumatic still
Through the blanket of sound
Though I wake to the same
Every motionless day
Always a struggle to sleep
Below the decrepit
Earthen sky
Published 23rd Aug 2017
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The author encourages honest critique.
24th Aug 2017 00:35am
How we love to quake when death comes and have this need to be comforted. Well done.
24th Aug 2017 11:37am
I encourage the thunder. It's energy and electrical show, makes me feel alive and if I could get away with standing at its core, I would. I also love the sound of the rain and this poem, because it reminds me of those things.
Much enjoyed as always.
Much enjoyed as always.
