Storm's EyeTicking clicksOf hands on agateAcross the room,Two in the morning;Lightning strikes,And I realizeI never evenShut my eyesFor what is fearWhen light is hope?A thunderous noise,And we pity the dark?Darling, there is no fearIn the eye of the storm.
Storm Ravaged HopePetals are a scatterAcross rain torn grass,Vines caressing leavesFallen from bare treesTo the right, the gardenHolds a scene of crush -Remains of rose petalsCreate a scene of redShimmering beneathLightning strikesOne blood red petal fallenFor every death occurredIn this unknown villageBut there in the midstLies a rose of black,Drenched in sorrowFrom its very tipTo the loose rootsRemained in the soilA few darkened petalsTo remember our losses,But a living deathMeant for true hope
Resting PlaceI've drowned, far beyondWhere the sun once reflectedOff the shimmering water -But the only thing I've learnedIs that red blood and blue waterDo not create a purple hue ~Then again, perhaps they hadBut my heart stole the discolorationTo be one with its resting place.
By the Grace of an Icepick There was no careful flutter of lashes as her eyelids rose up like a lightning strike. Perhaps it was because of the glare pounding past the skin over her eyes, or maybe the cold chills that raced through her spine to awaken her brain. Despite the reasoning, she had awoken in the same fashion she was left - leather straps burning rashes into her wrists and ankles, along with the chill of the metal piece that kept the leather stretch across her belly locked tight. How long she had been under, she had no clue. The last thing she remembered hearing was an orderly telling her that the electroshock therapy was a better, more trustworthy anesthetic to calm her down. But... For what? What was it that she was raging over beforehand? She remembered the fit she had thrown that caused her to be locked up in one of the marshmallow rooms. And she recalls cutting into doctor's face with her nails as he had dragged her out. Then suddenly there was that nurse. There were no o