November 27, 2022

The night, the day, the rain

By TsungaiThePoet


It is a hailstorm, this mind of mine,

A thousand tiny thoughts pelt my consciousness 

As the wind rages, my grasp on reason weakens

It is a monsoon of abrasive emotions 

The friction from their interactions burns

Burns my hands as I fight to shield myself –

To protect what’s left

I wait for the calm, yearn for it

About TsungaiThePoet

Holding onto sanity and faith, one line at a time. View all posts by TsungaiThePoet
This entry was posted on Sunday, November 27th, 2022 at 09:57 and tagged with , , , , , , , and posted in Contemplations, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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