The Final Storm Poem by Javier Falcon

The storm clouds roll over that hill so far,
pushing each other to come this way,
as I can't even out run them in my car.

As in the curves of the road I sway,
this chase seems to be coming to an end,
and all that is left to do is to pray.

Lightning struck, and left to mend,
in this cold harsh winter rain,
and without an umbrella to lend.

Yet I don't feel any pain.
As I was already torn before the storm,
left with no heart, without anything to gain.

Left here only to transform,
and from all the pain you caused,
heartless, and without love to misinform.

As choosing you was where I flawed,
And with experience I have come to learn,
that your love was just another fraud.