by RODOLFO GOMEZ
A wailing waft blows in through my roundels;
a restless spirit crying out to me.
My life candle is snuffed out by this echoing entity.
Black is my sky; so sudden the rain
drowns me in this endless pain.
But, to hear, alas, the thunder god,
a resonating roar awakening all.
I stand alone atop the stairway of truth;
so bright, the light, I cannot fall.