Where devils dance within the storm,
of caustic rage and sin;
A horror dwells inside each heart,
and soon the sky turns grim.

The trees of knowledge fall to the ground,
in wind-swept whirls of leaves;
And only love can cure the souls,
of the curious and bereaved.

Beware of lasting gusts that fly,
through hollowed arcs defined;
For in the stone-cold solitude,
these images are realigned.

The caution taken then is blessed,
by the calm after the storm;
And by the fire we'll rest our heads,
to keep us safe and warm.