There is a storm approaching.
Most can't tell, but I can.
Those grey clouds and frigid winds
I can feel the storm coming, dreadfully still.
But I can't foresee what this storm is
Is it fierce rain and a thunderous will?
Or is it a sharp blade carving into my heart-
And my soul? I don't know.
But this storm - Nearests so.
It isolates me, and... It provokes me too.
Because when I feel my hair standing on the edge of my skin
I hear a name whispered in the howling wind
I see a man, his back turned ever so-
With a sword on his side,
Its name:
Dec 8, 2025
Dec 8, 2025 at 2:35 PM UTC
There is a storm approaching.
Most can't tell, but I can.
Those grey clouds and frigid winds
I can feel the storm coming, dreadfully still.
But I can't foresee what this storm is
Is it fierce rain and a thunderous will?
Or is it a sharp blade carving into my heart-
And my soul? I don't know.
But this storm - Nearests so.
It isolates me, and... It provokes me too.
Because when I feel my hair standing on the edge of my skin
I hear a name whispered in the howling wind
I see a man, his back turned ever so-
With a sword on his side,
Its name:
