Alone in a dark house when the hard winds roll over,
With no one to speak to and no one I see.
Out on the streets there truly is no one.
They've all gone into hiding, leaving me be.

The cold storm is broken by flashes of white light,
That come to be constant and quiet and blinding.
Then the sound of a train engine splits the wet night,
And I and my rations so too go into hiding.

I don't cry as I hear the wind tear the night up,
And I am calm though the dust is burning my lungs.
I think to myself, "This is how God reminds us
That He can take anyone, no matter how young."

Thirty minutes go by, I am curled on the cold floor,
Pondering that this may be my last hour.
I consider my sins, under the strengthening roar
Of a storm that reminds me of who holds the power.

I ask for forgiveness and whisper for penance,
And tuck a note for my parents inside of my shoe.
My life as it is, my mistakes, I accept them,
I am content with the things I may never do.

But the storm passes by to go kill other daughters
And sons of people I may never know.
Nature, like Man, is no stranger to slaughter
And that night in that basement I was ready to go.

Though completely undamaged that horrific storm left me,
Nightmares I have when the night's rent by wind.
For last time, I said, "You can take me, I'm ready."
And I'm just so afraid I might say it again.