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 that you bleed

The love that  you remembered 

The life that you lost

The imagined storm that within fell on like a real thunderstorm 

Imagination cries and the reality screams….


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