The Eye of a Storm

There is a swirling inside
A swirling of red and white
And there is a tinge of black as well
The colors are scattered, indistinguishable

At times everything feels right
When I hear your voice, it calms the storm
But the day stirs the still pond
And there's the times where everything feels wrong

There is love, I know it
But the boiling mixture inside
Will not satisfy my confidence
It only threatens to shake me until I fall

I believe.
Isn't that enough?
What more could there possibly be?
I want to be settled again

I suppose all I can do
Is wait to see what this storm yields
And for your sake and mine
I hope it is the sun...

The End

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