Tuesday, August 7, 2018

Winds












Winds


Outside the window there was fury
The trees torturing at their roots;
Flailing branches painted across the sky
Into a cauldron of grays, blacks, yellows and reds.
The wind's murmurs interrupted by the thunderous drum rolls;
Flashes of white light illuminating the fear that blinds
The virtuous and the sinful alike -
Red earth and pouring rain.

Inside the window there is all to see
And yet, the blind brute
Stumbles around groping at the why
Naked in a sense; coveting cloth of dreads,
He understands not the audience of souls
Witnessing the eternal internal winds
Twisting, torquing in shattering strikes -
Red blood and smoldering pain.









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