Hurricane

By
Christopher J. Thomasson

Diamonds alone can’t stand up
To the open eye of the hurricane.
Roses bloom, then are torn away
By the winds of the hurricane.

True lovers become a lie,
Torn apart by the hurricane.
Silent, secret whispers are true,
In the eye of the hurricane.

Life is nothing to gain
To the open jaws of the hurricane,
And death alone can stand
Those blasting winds of the hurricane.

You are my hurricane,
Turning the winds of my soul
With the burning fires of hell
And the cool breeze of heaven’s glow.

But where I stand is in the eye,
The eye of the hurricane.
Where the storm is calm and no wind blows
Is where I stand…alone…

The End

Copyright February 2001 by Christopher J. Thomasson

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