The storm is coming
A crash, a tornado to rip through
Our shaking bodies
And we still grasp onto the the thin
Fabric of companionship.

I wish we could silence the noises,
The cutting voices, the blunt answers, the rasping chants,
And rediscover normal conversations.

Hurt has toppled us
Rippled through our life’s
In this room Armageddon begins to
Take shape
Rallying its demonstration of destruction.

Love burns at this moment in time
Nothing can halt it from flaking into
Nothingness
It was our cure, ever so pure.

The sun is setting on our dreams
Seeking redemption for the faults we created is unreachable
We can’t just perish?

This isn’t a call for forgiveness
Or a chance to stake a claim
It’s a war story...