That tempest in her churning
her dark gray contorted face
her razor teeth digging into the sky
those scowling eyes of steel
that swastika burned into her neck
serpents rising up from her head
winding their way around her horns
black steam rising from eyes of gray
arms counting seven and legs of a wolf
kicking the clouds in a heated frenzy
blackening the skies with a venomous ink
conjuring up hell to rise above the earth
stirring up the seas with a witch’s brew
tossing ships around
with her mighty breath
wreaking havoc upon the quiet earth
shaking the planets off their orbits
universal maniac in her full glory
playing with her toys in the sandbox
roaring with laughter at a fever pitch
drowning out the clamor of the seas
then giving into the father of time
the sequential burning of the minutes
waiting for the beast to grow weary
the weakening of her knees
the taking away of her toys
locking them inside a high security vault
calling to the skies with trumpets
for rainbows to shine in their full glory
for the eyes of the sun to look around
for the ships to resume their plotted courses
for the earth to breathe again
as the mad tempest goes to beddy-bye
“Time to sleep, sleepy one.
Hush little baby tempest

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Robert L. Martin
Environ 1 an

Thanx Cory. I'm always so glad to hear from you. You always inspire me to keep writing.

Cory Garcia
Environ 1 an

Amazing piece - Powerfully done and beautiful!

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Cory Garcia

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