The storms and cyclones
Are building, breaching
the defences of Her ambience.
Quietly, they come
Through the begrimed and black
Looting the ears of the lost.
What direction? When there is no compass.
No straight lines. Just circles.
Cycles and cyclones.
Caught up in the invisible winds
Swept away like debris.
What they called home is now Hell.
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 7:43 AM UTC
The storms and cyclones
Are building, breaching
the defences of Her ambience.
Quietly, they come
Through the begrimed and black
Looting the ears of the lost.
What direction? When there is no compass.
No straight lines. Just circles.
Cycles and cyclones.
Caught up in the invisible winds
Swept away like debris.
What they called home is now Hell.
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