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DesertWhere storms and iceAnd wind and rainBlew in upon a torrid plane,A restless spirit reined the placeWhere silence breaks,Where light gives pain.What fate awaited the flowers and treesAnd all the good worth saving;It left the barren earth alone,Faced with death and grieving...Over a silent plane bereft of peaceWhere all the good was leaving.The tempest raged like wild vengeanceTill the will lost all its strength;A deadly calm fell on empty length,And all was deafened silence.No more storms could ravage,There was nothing left to rage;For hell destroyed like an illnessAll left the stillness of the grave.
The Storm's ConsequencesI am thereAny day where there are storms.Anywhere where there are no flowers.The angry storms washed me awayThe once-vibrant now are dead.I am the flower that was springI was the grass, I was the song to sing.I longed to flower, to prosper and grow,Despite the heavy rain and snow.I wanted seclusion from those little girlsWho love to pick flowers just for pleasure.Now life's against the wind;And dawn has darkened into dusk.In this game of life the power is givenNot to the flower, but to the storm.