WHIRLWIND

On the surface, calm. No waves, nor a hint of the storm

But underneath,a torrent of pain and longing far beyond the norm

Whirling winds of fate (places)

Terrible gales of loss (spaces)

Crashing waves of hate (faces)

and howling gusts of love that you have lost

The storm rages on

The deeds of your past tear at you (won't escape)

The mistakes of your youth rip at you (can't escape)

The choices you've made bring you down (why escape)

And the bitterness that remains soaks you to the bone.

Your boat is yourself

Caught up amid the wild of the storm

Your bearing has become lost

Your way no longer clear

And there is nothing to do but cling to what you have

And pray not to go under

But under is peace

The deep has no memory

The dark knows no sin

But you know you can't go under

Because you won't be able to escape from within

There is no coming back

from giving up and going under

It is the last and final choice

That you know can be made.

It is the last port in the storm

The final thing that you might do

To give yourself peace from that which engulfs you

Yet you stay above

And try to outlast the storm

Not giving up

Not giving in

Riding the storm for all it's rage.

Because you won't let yourself

Give in

Go under.

And on the surface, calm.

No sign of what lies beneath

Except

The cloud that crosses your eyes

The pain that makes it's way outside

The rain that leaves it's trail

down the surface

of the calm outside