Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Prelude to Storms

Overcast skies, clouds dancing about

In random syncopation; what was once a

Calming breeze transforms to a Howl…

And soon the rains will come—as if to

Wash away the muck, and purify those spirits

Most unclean…

But even as powerful as the Tempest is, it too

Must pass away—taking with it much of what stood

In its Wake, but some things even the Tempest

Cannot remove, and although stains appear to be

Washed away, they remain—a temporal phantom,

That lingering sting, screaming in your waking mind…

Through those silent moments when past asserts

Its presence and the veil of distracting worlds

Cease to be…



--The Sad Man (Fathom 9)