.

The storm gathered about us this night

I saw the menacing clouds swirling in the air

they cast us all beneath their long shadows

there was no escape, no shelter open.

.

The thunder and lightning of your rage

broke upon a simple happening, a casual remark

I’m not sure which, but it was unremarkable

in comparison to the ferocity of your reaction.

 .

I faced the torrents of your harsh, brutal words

as they lashed and battered my saturated soul

I could not recognise you through the storm

which had engulf you within its darkened eye.

 .

You who had tamed the wild words of youth

to then craft them into the poetic language of love

now hurled hailstones of frozen reason to destroy

where once they’d sculptured to seduce my desire.

 .

In time I knew the storm of your illness would pass

that you would need me to reach out for you once again

and gather you from within the dark, blinding depression

towards shelter and the warmth of recognisable light of my love.

.

.

© Paul Nichol 2013

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