In the calm before the storm,
When the wind stops moaning
And the trees cease writhing;
When the bruised sky stills
And the last frail light dies…

In the penultimate moment,
Before the wind screams agony
And the trees contort with pain;
Before the bruised sky convulses
And the forever darkness falls…

Within the silent tension,
Within the tense silence,
There I find a tempest
More powerful than a tornado,
More destructive than a hurricane.
She is colder than hail
And quicker than lightning…

In the calm before the storm,
There is a tempest…

Within me.