• The storm comes with a thoughtless desire,
    Peace as its predecessor,
    And destruction as its intention
    I lay awake that night, wondering –

    Will I survive this storm?
    This storm that has desecrated my very way of life,
    Shaken the foundation that I held so dear -
    This storm that will wither with time - could be the end.

    It calls to me like a siren coaxing its next victim,

    The wind plows, lightning crashes and then – Nothing
    The light was never there – the storm didn’t exist.

    A faint whisper catches my ear.
    It’s all in your head…