There is no calm before the storm.
This tempest is neverending. These brief moments of peace are only that.
I am the pupil, swollen by too much light, staring up into the fickle sun.
I still reside within the storm. On the horizon, I see the dark spinning clouds as they draw near to envelop me again.
I have been a sower of the wind.
I have cast my dreams like seeds into the blistering sky.
Now I must succumb to what I have become.
I am the whirlwind reaper.
My struggle is that I can see it coming
I am wide awake
I am well aware
I can see the monster rising up out of tomorrow
come to devour her and take the rest of us along with it
One tragic choice of long ago somehow continues to wear away any stones we have built up as a refuge
and now it is coming
I see it
and I cannot do a thing
the innocent suffer
and those who love them suffer too
Is there no end?
I thought love conquered all
The ripples from that evil stone keep reverberating
tearing our hearts apart
and I do not know how to end the echo
We keep tossing in pebbles
The wave keeps swallowing them up
All that we have done seems for naught
Where is the power to face this tsunami?
Who will consume the monster before the monster consumes us?