The Storm
Gazing through the eyes of the window
I see aspects of your hidden shrine.
Here the storm's tempest gains access
To turbulently rattle the shutters
And clamor open the non chastened door.
This wild brood whose stronghold
Is made with a mighty entrance,
Dampens the night sheets
And electrifies the air.
This forbidden nocturnal fury,
No longer fully restrained,
Mounts suddenly all along
The tiles of the chamber floor.
Your breath is taut and broken,
As your body shudders and shakes.
Now the Internal is awakened
In the eye of the storm.
Stimulation of the moment
Douses uncertain thoughts,
Only as day breaks
Do the daunting questions begin.
Cold, drenched, and alone
Dimness gives way
To a quiet reprieve.
The candles are out
With the shadows
Now ever too long.
I see aspects of your hidden shrine.
Here the storm's tempest gains access
To turbulently rattle the shutters
And clamor open the non chastened door.
This wild brood whose stronghold
Is made with a mighty entrance,
Dampens the night sheets
And electrifies the air.
This forbidden nocturnal fury,
No longer fully restrained,
Mounts suddenly all along
The tiles of the chamber floor.
Your breath is taut and broken,
As your body shudders and shakes.
Now the Internal is awakened
In the eye of the storm.
Stimulation of the moment
Douses uncertain thoughts,
Only as day breaks
Do the daunting questions begin.
Cold, drenched, and alone
Dimness gives way
To a quiet reprieve.
The candles are out
With the shadows
Now ever too long.
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