naïveté

Many times I dreamt the storm to be over

That peace had come at once

As if the ground underfoot would fail to crumble

 

How foolish of me it was

 

Between the stalking shadows,

And whispers growing louder

That I believed

The onslaught of rain

Was a passing season

And we would blossom in the spring

 

Like the recession of the tide

Preludes a tsunami

Your storms made way for floods

 

How foolish of me it was

To think I’d learn to swim

 

Between valleys I’d overcome,

The highs and lows I trekked

That I believed

The world trembling beneath my feet

Would hold steady underneath

And we would remain standing

 

Like shivers up the mountainside

Prelude an avalanche

Your rage made way for devastation

 

How foolish of me it was

To believe that it would end

This poem is about: 
Me

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