The storm comes.
The storm comes.
The Storm comes.
It strips the Cedars.
It whips the Sands.
It tears the Unseen Mother.
It raves and rages,
Hearing nothing.
If it could hear, we could answer.
It cannot hear.
It cannot hear.
It cannot hear.
If it could feel, it could feel comfort.
It cannot feel.
If it could reason, it could be reasoned with.
It cannot reason.
If it could give, it could take away.
It cannot give.
This storm must destroy, or it would not be.
This storm must destroy, or it would not be.
This storm must destroy, or it would not be.
It cannot hurt Me.
YOU ARE READING
Lilith Grimoirie
ParanormalI wrote this in the summer of 2018. My car had broken down and I didn't have the money or much inclination to fix it, so I would walk home after work in the late evening writing in a tiny dime store notebook and occasionally walking into light poles...
