The worthless wind screamed,
at night. For no one to hear.
Only scorn-filled silence followed.
Any impact felt by the wind
is pointless. The wind is ignored.
Like music to the deaf.
The swirling sounds of desperation grow.
Like the world, the wind goes silent.
For screaming destruction is here.
A twisting cylinder of desire descends,
to have an impact on the world.
The wind is sick if silence.
After the tornado spun itself out
Only silence followed.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For Fun
PoesíaPoetry I write for myself. Comment for feedback. I will take criticism even if it harsh.
