Running From The Storm

Fear and lightning,
Dark and frightening,
That ever present shadow form,
Ever running from the storm.

Figures and shapes,
Looming wraiths,
Chase me from the darkling plains,
Shrieking, wailing, rattling chains.

Thunder roaring,
Black crows calling,
Screams of desperate fear,
Echoing always in my ear.

And

That ever present shadow-form
Ever running from the storm.

The End

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