The Storm Part IV

Enclosed, I’m safe from bitter skies
but not from the sullen storms inside.
Pour and your tramples beat the road
and my folly and my window
all the same.

I hear the wrathful rain
drop down like fallen angels on the glass,
each one a sinful emblem of the past.
The plunge to abyss comes from above
with shades of hell the clouds remind me of.

-Jordan Baker
Oct 2013

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