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By: padrine

Page 1, poem speaks for itself


The sky is dark and cloudy

The wind is sadly crooning

And the earth is waiting

For an onslaught on its planes

The trees are swaying wildly

Their leaves grasping the air

a gloomy anticipation

Is evident everywhere

Then heaven release its wrath

creatures flee the terror

as water buckets down

from an elevated reservoir

clouds join in, acrimoniously

discharging flashes of light

releasing atmospheric electricity

across a vast terrain

Such is the state of my heart

cloudy as the pregnant sky

expecting some attack

on body, soul and mind

clutching at straws of hope

with abated breath I wait

when fury finally strikes

I need somewhere to hide

Tears streaming down my face

When words as sharp as blades

cleaves through marrow & bone

the pain so callously inflicted

on a heart not made of stone


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