Day 8: Shudder at the Memory

Phenomena.NationalGeographic.Com

The wind is blowing.

Rearranging all I ever believed in.

I still shudder at the memory

As I remember the pained losses.

My heart is filled

With an abundance of drought.

I progress in a solitary rust.

Times have changed,

Churning and churning like milk turning cheese,

Fluttering away like that fabled winged chariot,

Leaving desolation behind in its trail.

Storm clouds gather like 10,000 samurai knights

Passionately sousing my moments and my days

With evil's delight.

In vain I've awaited the sun after the rain

The climax is delayed.

I view my world thro the eye of the hurricane

The dreaded symptoms rustle the lilies

I can only hope; pray for strength to take it

All in my stride.

I thrust my head away from my wounded pride

Bitching like a broken bride,

Betrayed on her wedding night.

Akpan