So she picked up her pencil 

And wrote to the world about the Storm 

that left her soaked in golden blood.

 

Must she be left in pieces 

From the gentle winds

Of the violent Storm?

 

He once struck

lightning in her path of

darkness. Roared thunder

 

when it was silent 

And all too lonely. He

rained an ocean

 

to keep her boat afloat. 

Must the sun come out. 

 

Only in the sun did he see

the roofs he had destroyed;

land he has flooded;

homes he has swept away. 

So he left.

 

She was left alone;

Calling out to the Storm

Every night- Until the 

dark was not too dark anymore; 

until the silence was bearable;

until she can float on her own. 

 

So she picked up her pencil 

And wrote to the world about the Storm 

that left her soaked in golden blood.