The Storm Poem by C.R. Ebowski

The sun is smothered by lies
Dark heavy clouds of despair
Trees bend to my will
As I exhale my last breath
And the storm moves in
Rain washes over my pain
From the shell on my soul
Clasps of thunder echo
The tears that I cannot cry
And the storm moves in
Soaked through and through
Exposing blood on my dirty hands
Flashes of white light depict
The glimpse of stained memories
And the storm moves in
The wind blows against my face
Pressuring me to the ground
Forcing me into the depths
Of my self made hell
The storm is here