Amidst the storm I stood
the trees bustling around,
with the heavy wind blowing
a thought popped, unbound;
Lost it would have been
for the force wasn't low,
had I not been a victim,
I too, would have let it go.
With the thunder lightning above
I let the thought flow,
each vein of mine knew
the intensity of the blow;
The thought built up
to conquer my mind,
to capture the emotions of my heart
To make me blink blind!
Concept of life was questioned
to put it out straight,
is the storm a replica
of the ever scrutinised fate?
With troubles all around
I recalled all the losses,
are thorns a part of life,
for all who play with roses?
The ones with strong roots
survive the darkest nights,
to foster a new day
to fly high like the kites;
The thread being the stone
on which you could rise,
or be pulled back down
and die till your demise!
The storm remained incessant
and the rain started to pour,
in the middle I stood wet
counting back from four!
At four I thought to die
at three: I will survive,
at two I thought to win
at one, I felt alive.
Very nice😊
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