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Rain streams down the window pane
The darkness of the storm rages outside
Broken only by the lightning flashes
That match the fevered rage in my soul

Rivulets of water cascading down
As tears stream from my eyes
I peer out through the pane of glass
Separating me from the storm outside.

Black on Blackness darker still
Both outside and in my soul
At the edge of the yard,
I see the silhouette of the treetops beyond.

Whipping, bending, thrashing as in agony
The trees shake and tremble before the gale
Primal nature, a battle
Played out on the stage of my windowsill.

The wind howls, then dies with a sigh
As it seems to whisper my name
And then renews its raging strength
As if expressing an unnamed pain.

My eyes watch this ‘dance macabre’
As I yet look within myself
To find that torture continues
And see beneath, to its cause.

A scream struggles within me
But finds no words nor breath of release
Another struggle of nature without
While inside me, a different storm rages.

  - Julia Newbern


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