I am struck by a lightning bolt
Issuing forth from that ominous
Cloud, sent by that cruel gale.
At a distance of time, that gale
Was but a smooth, cool zephyr
Carrying hope, love, and dreams.
Perhaps this concentrated blade
Is the violent shattering of the zephyr,
Striking me with the full force of life
That callous, cloudy vessel drifts
Ubiquitously, bringing its omens
To each and every azure firmament.
Yet now, blackened with cruelty,
That tempestuous harbinger
Does away with my optimism.
Even so, that swift, wicked strike
Leaves me a small vestige of hope
To store in that fickle, turbid mass