The rain of a hurricane Does not fall Nor does it slant; It slices horizontal, Cutting like shards of glass; Tastes of salt, So gritty with debris I bleed. It is a flood shaped Like a circling maelstrom Boiling over the brim.
The
winds
of
a hurricane
Are not just air streams
But lashes from the whips of the Furies
Exacting punishment for the sins against the sea.
Those gales scream like Sirens
That drive sailors insane.
Are not just air streams
But lashes from the whips of the Furies
Exacting punishment for the sins against the sea.
Those gales scream like Sirens
That drive sailors insane.
The
eye of the hurricane
Is
the Eye of God, weeping.
But blinded by tears and the rampage.
But blinded by tears and the rampage.
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