The Storm....

I've always dreamed of innocence,
an instance which cannot exist.
Like natures plight of storming furry,
skies that turn so dark and dreary.

My mind it slips into asunder,
as my thoughts become a blunder.
Thunder rolls and lighting strikes,
dark clouds turn the day to night.

A tornado forms within my soul,
its vortex spins out of control.
Destroying all that's in its path
unleashing its relentless wrath.

The trees they bend as strong
winds blow, casting ominous
shadows. And as their limbs
begin to break, fly through my
heart like wooden stakes.

The storm, which formed, from
all my pain, it's winds could never
be sustained. It self-destructs and
seized to blow, returning to me...

A broken soul.