'The Storm Approaches'

The Storm approaches

Years away, creeping slowly towards me

I hear its thunder

It crashes down on distant shores

Lightning illuminates a sky

Somewhere I can’t see

But I know it’s there

 

No one likes to talk of it

Except in those late night conversations

Spoken in hushed whispers

Maybe they are afraid

I know I am

 

The Storm only gets closer

My time is ticking away

The mere idea of stopping it is utter lunacy

It will always roam the Earth

The Storm will reign on

With wicked intent, it brings destruction to all who cross its path

I will never escape the beast, and neither will you

 

While pondering these terrible things, I ask myself:

“Why do we continue living our silly lives

If our fates are already predetermined?”

I believe I know the answer

But it doesn’t make sense, nor will it ever

 

The  closer it gets, the more I fret

Time dwindles, and I fear it’s nearly up

I will never be ready for the Storm

But is anyone?

 

The thunder is no longer distant

The lightning illuminates my sky

Rain drizzles outside my window

The Storm is near

 

I can feel it in my bones; can you?

The cold bites, sharper than a knife,

My energy begins to drain away

Life’s joys grow less and less common

Every day is suddenly a struggle

 

Childhood becomes a far away day dream

Reality is the new nightmare

Gone are the merry days

But the dreary ones are here to stay

Although not for long, the Storm is almost here

 

Time is scarce, a precious thing

I’ve watched it run out for others, friends and family

Yet I stood there, glad I still had an abundance of it

Now what’s left is about to be destroyed; thunder rattles my window pane

 

The tables have turned, I suppose

My hourglass is running out of sand

The Storm’s formidable presence is even more menacing than I imagined

I try to look away

But one cannot ignore the inevitable, no matter what horror it brings

 

I tremble and bite my lip

Fear can’t cover what I feel

I wish that the Storm would turn back

That time would rewind and things be different

But I can’t click my heels as Dorothy did

 

The Storm comes to a halt

It has arrived at its destination

It stand before me, grinning cruelly and considering its newfound prey

I’m only one of many, and certainly not the last

For there will never be a last

 

The Storm continues its journey

Unprejudiced to the ones it annihilates

Only caring that it gets the job done

The Storm is the end for us all

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741