the weather is our patriarch
of all that survives.
it brings life to this world
just as fast as it dies.

one could imagine
the thoughts of the gods
whether there is one or more
or if they're all frauds.

beliefs and thoughts
are all i've got.

there is nothing else
i could have brought.

angry dreams,
pointless themes

i wish i could cry
away all the means

of the words they say,
oh,how they describe them.
my mind can't control
how i deny them.

crying and pouring
like rain on a day
that screams with lightning
that won't go away.

my mind makes cyclones
like a twirling tornado
my heart pounds harshly
i guess im afraid,so

i must try to hide
like a creeping thunder storm.
as its all held in
the clouds start to form.

making scarce thoughts
as it where the hurricane's eye
everything goes away
for a moment...it all dies...

so my thoughts originate
from a feeling so ornate.

the hurricane comes back
and my mind becomes irate.

then all is done,
all is finally through...
as i look in the puddle of water
i say,"what's wrong with you?"