The Storm

The wind greeted me through the window,

Bringing tidings of the storm to come.

I had prepared myself –

I had taken precautions,

Barred all entry,

Built a wall –

But the wind’s gentle warning

Quickly turned into violent threats.

I fled to a corner,

As far from assault as I could retreat,

But the tumult followed and

Echoed through my mind.

I cried out, defenseless,

As the shrieking of the rain

Pierced my armour,

Every drop a sword, and

Every sword fashioned to the

Humming of the blacksmith

As he hammered his weapon

To perfection.

The shrieking penetrated my ears,

And the reverberations numbed my senses

Until the noise melted into every drop, and

Every drop fell silent.

Then,

As the cloud of silence settled,

And my senses revived,

I heard the mindless humming

Of the blacksmith.

I saw him now, with his eyes shut,

Forging a weapon,

Not knowing what for.

A meticulous design,

To impair was its goal—

But he never considered

Who the victim would be,

And his voice fanned the flames

As the iron ore took shape

To the melody,

Sincere in its deceiving sweetness.

The humming enveloped me

And grew once more into a torrent of noise

That beat me to the ground,

Helpless, though sheltered,

Against the unintended rage

That erupted from a latent summer’s day.

In a moment of weakness,

I had basked in the warmth of

Words dipped in honey,

Spoken from a tongue seeking refuge

From bitter solitude.

It was not long before I knew that day

Would never last,

For even summer’s longest day must surely

Come to an end,

And so I built my wall and convinced myself

I was prepared for battle,

A lie that lay

In the gap between my mind and heart,

And weakened my resolve.

Laboring in denial,

I left a crack in the wall,

Hoping my Pyramus would come to me.

But the deafening sound of reality setting in

Now replaced the soft whispers

That then tickled my ears,

And the wet rain that shattered

Through the nearest window

Made its way to dampen my heart

Once held by his lonely hands.

Every drop drove the point home,

Perforating the edges of my heart

While my mind rode into battle.

My chest gave way

And the sieve bled onto the floor—

My mind retreated,

With nothing left to defend.