The Storm

The storm is coming,
In fear, run and hide.
So loud now, it must be close,
Bellowing, sounds like thunder.

Crashing, smashing, screaming,
Like a harsh wind bashing,
Bashing on my door.

To scared to open and see,
Louder now, more than ever.
I press myself against the door.

The storm is no longer coming,
The storm is here.
Crying at the thought,
It's been a long night.

The door swings open with force and fury,
Like a hurricane in my room.
Here to thrash me around,
Like leaves in the brutal wind.

He's home again,
And he's drunk again,
And I'm scared again,
Like a storm.