The quiet eyes of a storm, they gaze,
In the midst of chaos, their tranquil phase.
Beneath dark clouds, a serene allure,
A paradox of calm, so pure.

In their stillness, a world does wait,
Before the tempest decides its fate.
A hushed anticipation, a silent plea,
For the storm's quiet eyes to set them free.

But within those eyes, a power resides,
A force of nature, where mystery hides.
The calm before, a moment of grace,
Before the storm unleashes its fierce embrace.

The quiet eyes of a storm, they hold,
A story of nature, ancient and bold.
In their depths, a world unfurls,
Where the balance of chaos and peace swirls.

So, we watch and we wait, in awe and dread,
As the quiet eyes of the storm overhead,
Reveal the secrets of earth and sky,
In the silent moment before the storm's cry.