The storm is only the beginning
for, when the rumble is over
the mourning truly begins
pain, like footprint on a beach
bold, and deep
time, as timeless as time itself
dissonance, waiting to be softly pulled into tone.
until the end, there is no end.
Category: poetry
Make it loud
You are the voice
don’t you understand
raise it loud and clear
in fear, will they cower.
you are a house on fire, let them know
you wanna keep burning
One-47
Memory fails me,
where my armor end, and
where my skin begins
an ultimate search
through ripped veil would I know you at all
it wasn’t my fault echos around me
GallopingCrazy 