The Wind’s Tirade
When the wind talks, I listen. I let it vent.
The wind's tirade, disturbs the seas
Thoughts scatter, and peace flees
A raging tempest, is what my canvas sees
But– The storm calms as my pen cries
My sky may fall until the ink dries
From the night's fall to next time the sun is called to rise
The weight of my palms fall onto a blank space
The wind's tirade bawl to my face
I pour my heart onto the page, painting a picture
A puzzle of characters form a labyrinth of venture
The silhouettes of my qualms walk the center
Letters form a face, the same as in the mirror
With every word the vapor clears, peace's trace becomes clearer
The day grows nearer
I lie in wait for the light to surround me
Scattered thoughts, no longer shroud me
The wrath of the waters fades
Silenced, is the wind's tirade
About the Creator
Josh Morgan
Personally, writing began as a creative outlet, to be a means of processing and venting emotion, but it has become so much more. Something I want not to be just relatable, enjoyable and a good read, but to reach someone who is in need.
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A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶3 days ago in Petlife
Comments (1)
I love the line. "But– The storm calms as my pen cries". I use my writing to process the storms in my life and this really spoke to me! Keep it up