QUIET STORM

I am a quiet storm as I come into the warmth of the rain to create a world that I can call my own. Reality is what I see inside the windows of my dreams at night. Without darkness, how can I see and feel the touch of the moon's light on my face?

I silenced my mind to recall the memories of my love of life that I lost at the hands of time. Allowing myself as I woke up, I realized that my breath was a continuation of the air I breathed years ago, and now everything was to show the truth. I do not know all the things that I know. Still, they remember my name, and it is the quiet storm, for I knew of their death from the minute I was born.