Storm, why did you have to strike?
'Twas the wrongest place and a wronger time.
Summer's ripening outside,
So why'd you strike your sudden knife?
A scene for film, your coming now,
Our twisting hearts with writhing clouds,
Dark and gray and turning spirals,
Insanity walks with your trials.
She's pacing, crying, my queen of smiles,
She's shaking, anguished, gagging bile.
Death, not one has tongued your taste,
Without others facing worst of pains.
Blue sky, if I could touch your cool,
Sooth my soul, sing her anew,
Stop your booming, quaking strikes,
Let my window bring us light.
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