Let the storm rage on
The days run short
I feel the urge to squeeze the minutes left
the silence grows and the emotions run low
the memories abound and the presence is gone.
little tenderness remains
forced kisses become unbearable
although inside the furnace still blares
if only the mirror cast a real counterpart
sighs happen more often
I have the answers, but the questions all ceased
some miss the chances of their lifetime
they just do not seem to understand
I defy the present and the future I couldn't care less for
I fight for others' futures, but my present they make not
I take it as a duty and though they' re the reason for all this fight
A heart still needs a comforting whisper in the mid of the night
A running nose as this poem ends
is the stamping proof of a feeling unrewarded
a hope unretributed, a karma not yet brought forth
as the clouds get charged and the storming show begins.
