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by Logan Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2229861
An Ode for anyone working through their own personal storm fronts 'midst Covid
Stormz

Days run by, numbered... counting,
lightning strikes, strobes, rides the rails;
with tempests massing, mounting,
liquid metal climbs the scales

Counting "tween the thunder,
and bolts birthed, set to strike;
in mindsets dark, we wonder,
will this storm front break tonight?

By day, the heat is rising,
climbing, day to day;
no break on the horizon,
no margins left to play

A game the house is winning,
more than it really should;
dealt bleak at the beginning,
... an outook not so good

A year best not remembered,
every action a mistake
Trains of thought dismembered,
left in tatters, in its wake

with bottles empty, nights spent,
in darkness, liquid falls;
dropping out of sight, sense,
sweat dripping 'midst the calls

Climbing up the columns,
rills running through the rows
Towers, close and solemn,
as the distance greys and grows

Strobing in the distance,
balled up bright, bespoke
Lightning strikes, a final dance,
a chance lost, bottled... broke

Shattered in the darkness,
broken in the heat
Preying things would spark less,
berated, battered... beat

Defeated, scattered cross the page,
our ink drawn, stretched so pale
Quicksilver, climbing up the guage
... red rising up the scale

with shadows lost in corners, dark,
and candles burning bright;
both ends lit, to warn us, stark,
with throttles, choked up, tight

Congestion in the airways, damned,
the times and tides we bide
Keeping to the fairways, planned,
I think, I thought... I tried

I might have said, "I love you", low,
in the heat, lost in the night;
'midst stars falling in silence, slow,
... a bottle running light

Climbing 'tween the towers, through,
the darkness stretches out;
holding out for showers due
as storms... they run about
© Copyright 2020 Logan (stipey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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