courtesy: Nathan Lounds
Intermittent
monsoons
of
variable strength
had
flooded your highways and bends
yet
they never altered
your
course
even
when the worst
that
you could have never
dared
to conjure
ripped
you to shreds.
You
chose to methodically ignore your pain
and
the person who shared it
committing
emotional suicide
then
murder
with
bullets of your own
desperate
making
ending
everything
and
everyone
with
an empty rhetoric
heard
no longer in the empty nest
your
home had become…
swallowed
wholly by currents of air
rotating
an evaporated chill
running
through the fraying seams
of
the pillow that harboured
secrets
and lies
you’d
forgotten how to tell;
it
had become harder these days
to
convince yourself
the
smoke that held you together was sincere
when
your conscience howled
in
disapproval with the outsides gusts into
your
selective ear
but,
knowing the path that you’d take
could
not be changed without recognition
of
your mistakes
the
howls ceased to be and
silence
erupted between your sheets;
your
pride relieved…
only
for not understanding
this
silent eeriness was not defeat
but
rather
your
last warning to heed
an
impending judgment.
This
whirlwind life was prophetic
just
like it, you never stopped spinning
that’s
the only way you knew
to
survive
and
oblivious to many
you
lived preoccupied
for
in your frightened depths
you
acknowledged
the
life you chose was not cheap
you
had sown so many errors
that
the harvest you thought was yours
was
actually made from your abstracted dreams
that
would seem so real for a moment
then
leave…
this
face that you no longer recognized…
save
the pupils
both
still flashing an SOS
for
aid and approval
that
could only be found in the
centre
of your storm
wide
and compressed, bands
of
misleading calm
that
with little or no provocation
lead
to the descent of surprising destruction
firmly
placed ideals
flying
outward with no warnings given
lights
off
every
thought darkened
pitter
patters obsolete
overrun
by water's forces
sliding
land
is
where you stand…
but
a flicker remains
for
redemption.
My
Inspiration: Storms
© KohylahPiper 2015
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