The tempest




I fear the tempest,
It threatens to unleash itself
Every solitary morning
Like a beast waiting to be released.
Every morning when the sun comes up
And the skies are grey,
The tempest hovers around the horizon,
Like unseen clouds
Which can unleash their torrential wrath.

Voices from near and far-
Fleeting images,
Flicker and pass by.
The skies were blue
And the fields were green
Not so long ago.

Late at night,
Before dreams invade,
The tempest is still around the horizon,
Beyond the flash of the neon lights,
Far beyond the reach
Of redemption.
It goes to sleep,
And so do I,
Till the  coming dawn.

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