Coming storm, I am! Drifting, distant, dampness of rain from afar soddens your lips.    Closer, the storm carries in gentle arms of swift winds, each drop of tear-showers. 

Still anchor, sunk, in tear rippled sea. 

darkness dwells inside anger tremblesa lull in my speech means I am thinkingdevouring the light which shinesshrinking psychedelic thinkingstrobes of misery spinmy thoughts expandwith ideas of hurt to recallmy mind looks at the worldgood with fangs and clawsthe dark...