“Storm”

 

Have my anger, my greed, and my anxiety

But foul thoughts, aren’t reminiscent of my piety.

So time after time - and via subtle rhymes.

The storm will calm inside of mine.

 

So I can have my bane move with me.

But cruel jokes don’t represent good sifting.

So time after time - and via subtle rhymes.

The storm will calm inside of mine.

 

That said, I wish that:

 

For days henceforth, be the rage so short.

That neither pains nor raindrops could carry it forth,

for they’re new sports, and stuck in a cohort wrapped in

Ice and so forth. 

 

After all, happiness has it’s creed, and it would besiege,

Like a gentle breeze moving sand that was

landlocked under my knees in couplets of two’s and three’s. 

Existing until I rest in peace.

 

With cheap shots and red knots, be me doomed to rot

and rot until fully autonomous robots fill my spot.  I’m hot and full of 

Red dots soon somebody aught to realize I’m not.

 

Before this jaded and frankly ill fated attempt to distance me from the 

Elated sucker’s I’ve once hated. And be baited and removed from 

sacred lands that my hands once stood strong to command.

 

I find it hard to stand. 

 

Furthermore,

 

Never in my days shall I tidy this unbegotten mess.

Working harder and harder by the day against stress.

And time after time - and via subtle rhymes.

The storm will calm inside of mine.

 

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