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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 |