The imagined storm
The storm you built within your mind, Once fell on you—thunderous, unkind. It tore your skies, it rends your ground, Yet somehow, strength in you was found. Wounds bled silence, days turned grey, But healing came in quiet way. You rose again, with shaky breath, You walked away from shadowed death. You told yourself: “I’ve felt this rain, I’ve danced before with known pain.” You thought the worst had come and gone, That morning waits beyond the dawn. But when the storm no longer played— When imagination wore reality’s blade, It cut much deeper than before, Though you’d survived a hundred wars. You screamed, “I’ve walked this path in dreams!” But dreams don’t echo real-life screams. And now you float, not quite alive, The grief that you endure The emptiness that you felt The loneliness that you grew The suffer that you measured The heart that you torn The thoughts that you drawn scribbled The chaos that you poured The sleep that you left The hunger that you hide The pain...