Though clouds should gather round me
Swirling, dark, and smoky gray-
The thunder clap above my head,
I will not run away.
The lightning flash may blind me,
Strike the ground between my feet.
I'll stand to face the brewing storm
Despite the hail and sleet.
Not gust nor gale will sway me.
I will view it as serene.
For icy drops will pelt my skin
But wash my spirit clean.
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