Tempest-er

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KARLTRINA

This prose is feverish.
Heart in throat,
Pressure pushing,
Keeping me from my bono vox.
So I stop,
Like a break in the storm.
Yellow skies afire
And that slight pressure
That the universe uses
To tell you there's more.
Back in a flash!
Pent rage and fear fly by finger flick.
Confusion falling,
A misrepresentation
Due to these harsh environs.
So storm dies
But quietly rages on
Secretly assuring bright twilight
And stony slumber.
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