Storm aimless

The breeze shifts
snaking the heavens
heavy clouds churning sickly
as I sit nervous beneath
pinned by weights invisible and messy
my eyes captured by the splitting sky
that thunder ripping through the soul
and a sense foreboding enters surely
that this storm will be unforgiving
vengeful to its last sprint
and I shall be the one caught
and vanish without a trace
though it shall surely pass
but wreck havoc
beneath lost, aimless feet.

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