Stormy skies await ahead,
Messengers of future doom.
I see trees which seem to bloom,
But they’re phantoms of the dead.
I can turn and walk away,
Leaving all of it behind,
Running, hiding: no delay,
But I don’t, with fearless mind.
Entering the vengeful lands,
Boiling droplets pierce my skin,
Yet I take the bravest steps
In the storm of truth and dream.
Battling howling, hateful winds,
Thunders booming from above,
Now the storm so endless feels,
Sending fiery, tainted doves.
Rage and fire I then meet,
Then a blizzard cold as ice;
All this fury I endure,
Knowing that it soon will pass.
Step by step, I see a sky
Of a hopeful, loving spring
And the grey I leave behind,
As my being is redeemed.
Many storms await ahead,
But I’m stronger breath by breath;
I’m alive, I’m not yet dead,
I’ll prevail until the end.
Dreams and truth I will unite,
Making life of what I feel;
I’m the master of my mind;
This is it: my highlight reel.
– Patricia
Da Capo al Poetry 