A storm is coming,
Hitting the shore.
Palm trees flying
And so much more.
Anger raises the waves.
Passion kicks up the sand.
Fear hides behind clouds.
Marching in like a band.
I know he is here.
I hide from his face.
He’s coming for me.
Clouds pick up the pace.
His anger brings passion and fear.
Too bad he can’t fly like a dove.
His can easily move mountains.
For me, he moves the sky above.
THE DEAD GAME
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