Migraine

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A storm rolls in, silent yet loud,
Filling my mind like a heavy cloud.
Pressure building, pounding deep,
Stealing the calm, the chance to sleep.

A flash of light, a piercing pain,
A thousand needles, a tightening chain.
Every heartbeat amplifies,
As colors blur before my eyes.

The world grows sharp, senses raw,
Sound and light a brutal flaw.
In darkened rooms, I seek relief,
A fragile hope, a brief reprieve.

Hours stretch like endless miles,
Battling through, losing smiles.
Yet somehow I endure the fight,
Waiting for the soft respite.

When it fades, I breathe once more,
The storm recedes, I find the shore.
And though it strikes, fierce and wild,
I rise again, worn but defiled.

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