The storm, it is not passing by quickly

But the children are asleep in their beds

Should we awaken them all, so brashly,

or leave them at ease, to slumber instead?

The winds, beginning to knock at the door,

getting stronger and stronger each minute

They start to rattle; the boards on the floor

are creaking as wind slowly gets in it.

A loud crash of lightning hits trees outside

Perhaps they should prepare to run away

The calm lake waters now treacherous tides

A funnel takes form, dark menacing grey

Why should we wake them from their calm cool sleep?

It’s already done; the water’s too deep.