31 January 2013
It's striking at my windows, It's bruising all the panes, Shrieking and it's howling, Rattling at its chains.
Almighty power beating, I pretend it isn't there, Not so easy when it's loud, And rampant with its scare.
Rain parades 'longside it, Pushing on the groans, Whistling across the glass, With eerie, heavy moans.
Oh these sorts of wicked days, You wish you could stay in, The weather wears you down with ease, Until you're left too thin.
Wind & Rain. • Opuss № I