Tempest in the Night

Furious and passionate The quite squall of origin past Tempest in the night Unwelcome in the dawn Of a new day rising At the crest of a tomorrow A tomorrow that will never be.

Ceding Sound

Orchestrating silence

she sits alone on the precipice

of tomorrow.

Deaf to the hope

life brings in loveless longing

ceding the wind and the droves

of dreams lost to memories,

tarnished memoirs

scatter on the taciturn wind

so that even her silent screams

quake to no one.