deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Storm
Sizzling flesh and decaying bone.
Fires dying and I'm left alone
To fight for a destiny made of de ja vu,
And in the eye of the storm, standing secluded: you.
In this vortex of agony,
This maelstrom of memory,
I'm the rainmaker
For your thunder.
Whistling winds will pass you by,
What can I do but cry
Out all through my heart's night
Falling, lost within my own fight.
This love spring forever
A whirlpool of change
When so called love has turned into rage.
Fires dying and I'm left alone
To fight for a destiny made of de ja vu,
And in the eye of the storm, standing secluded: you.
In this vortex of agony,
This maelstrom of memory,
I'm the rainmaker
For your thunder.
Whistling winds will pass you by,
What can I do but cry
Out all through my heart's night
Falling, lost within my own fight.
This love spring forever
A whirlpool of change
When so called love has turned into rage.
Published 15th Jan 2012
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
18th Jan 2012 00:22am
I could picture your poem in my mind like a Native American drumming circle near tepis and a dark,explosive sky.
18th Jan 2012 6:46pm
