Our storm awaits us; the pressure builds and thunder roars. Oh the deafening sounds, as my soul soars.
The winds will blow and the tears will pour. MORE! Oh God, please more. Oh please, no more.
Electricity running down my face, there is no shelter; nor any safe place. It is such a pity, such a desperate fate, with such waste of a loving space.
Hail crashes and smashes all that you held holy. Not even a moment left not even time for you to hold me. Hell is surely to destroy all that keeps us free. The storm awaits to swallow you and me.
Leave a Reply