Branch and bough bend before breaking becomes
The single sound summoning a wild wind that howls and hums
As great gargantuan gusts both ebb and tide
I feel anxiety’s turmoil and terror inside
I search for shelter and a place to hide
To fly without wing
Will it ever subside?
Finely fallen leaves float flickering
Upon puddle ponds perfect peaceful pause
Am I looking for demons, Easter bunny, or Santa Claus?
The faces that find me
Float in a fabric of foul flowers fauna
They speak of evil like hell’s chosen Madonna
No longer can I stand in my own disgrace
No wonder I long to leave this place