Open

clear again

trapped inside the heart of a storm
leashed by the arm of the tide
plagued by all that around me swarm
with rooms that are no place to hide.

I have been told to stay quiet and calm
deep down is a war to break free.
but if I die or lose an arm
then what use would I be to me?

out of rage, the tempest shattered the oak,
tore the lime and the palm trees with its rain
and that was the last time it spoke.
all else was clear water again.

/liː.ɒnl ɛtʃə/