My tempest


There is a storm rattling my windows and shrieking over the sea – its sheer force is awe-inspiring, hence this little stab at deciphering its message:

The wind is blowing, hissing and rising up to a shrill
The angry wind lifting the waves, oh it’s such a thrill

Roaring gusts devastating, flattening everything
Indignant squalls biting, as a dark vengeful wing

Unstoppable howling gales looking, forever searching
My irate wind, how I feel your rage, your suffering

Shriek and scream my glowering, majestic tempest
Regain your pride, make them feel your harshness

Mayhem and chaos you are sowing, as is fair and just
Leaving desolation in your wake and only barren dust

Additional note: this is from the archives but the storm two days ago was as fierce as the one I wrote about back then…

Painting: “Miranda – The Tempest” by John William Waterhouse

19 thoughts on “My tempest

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