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The Final Storm

Poetry By: SkinDeep

The battle against oncoming depression.

Submitted:Jan 22, 2013    Reads: 63    Comments: 7    Likes: 4   

Violent winds and stinging rain strike me.

My eyes widen, determined to see through the falling glass.

My muscles tighten, fighting this battle within.

I pray for this storm to pass.

But stronger and stronger it grows.

Spinning, ripping, and torturing waves.

I cannot bear it much longer,

I am turning into this hurricane's slave.


Black clouds and rumbling ground engulf me.

My eyes squint, doubting that the end is near.

My muscles weaken, losing this battle within.

Hope is gone, and I'm left with fear.

Still, stronger and stronger it grows.

Mercilessly trampling my soul.

I cannot bear it much longer,

I have lost all control.


Thundering skies and splitting lighting shatter me.

My eyes close, my hope is destroyed.

My muscles surrender, the battle is lost.

I am left beaten and void.

Formidable foe, you grew so strong,

Clawing at my humanity with such aggression.

And now, I have given in

To the storm of depression.


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