I see the storm clouds rolling in.
From afar; approaching fast.
On every side, hard pressing.
The slivered beam won't last.

Surprisingly, so swiftly,
The beam is plucked away.
And I'm in the eye of the chaos,
With no choice but to stay.

So, I brace myself for impact,
And the cold, hard freezing rain.
And mind-drift into numbness,
To avoid unavoidable pain.

And sturdy, fixed and riveted,
I will stand strong in the wake.
For my soul's become a statue.
That no storm will ever break.