Unsettled
There is no calm before the storm.
Long before the silence is broken;
The clouds set in.
I find myself trembling in the darkness,
Waiting for the first outburst.
Why must it always be this way?
I can shut my eyes to the lightning;
But the thunder still roars;
And my tears fall like rain.
Long after the storm has passed;
The effects remain.
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Poetry and Prose
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