Silently a stream like thunder
deeply quiet but rumbles under
this inner cloud of smoky doubt
in places dark with humid shrouds

Flashes churning pictures strange
in an echoing sort of way
reveals all my heart aggressively
guards and tries to store away

But the storm is coming soon
My pent up angst has no more room
Beware you foul and feral knaves
stand aside from these waves

This tempest is the retribution
for all the mind's apt confusion
and none who poke the hungry coals
can long avoid the fire's soul

(March 22nd, 2018)