The Wind of chaos howls overhead
While the water of sorrow gathers
In a puddle at my feet, with dread,
I watch the storm and would not rather.
The storm grows with surprising fury
As the words grow louder and bolder.
They try to drown me in a hurry;
I struggle just not to be buried.
At the eye are two different people,
With separate beliefs and motives,
While I cling to the steeple,
And they don't care if the other lives.
I tell myself not everything's bad,
That there can still.be light in the world,
And then I just think what if I had
Been able to secure my own hold.
Aug 28, 2025
Aug 28, 2025 at 8:10 AM UTC
The Wind of chaos howls overhead
While the water of sorrow gathers
In a puddle at my feet, with dread,
I watch the storm and would not rather.
The storm grows with surprising fury
As the words grow louder and bolder.
They try to drown me in a hurry;
I struggle just not to be buried.
At the eye are two different people,
With separate beliefs and motives,
While I cling to the steeple,
And they don't care if the other lives.
I tell myself not everything's bad,
That there can still.be light in the world,
And then I just think what if I had
Been able to secure my own hold.
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