Storm
As this woman struggles to do the easiest task
She can only follow the lead that was given
The seconds past so slow, that pulsates her driven
Sitting in this black room with a half-empty flask
Depressed and crying, she swears on the Bible
That God is so unfair in lingering moment
Rocking away her pain, there is no enjoyment
Releasing her fierce beast into worthless tribal
What caused this much sickness? Why is she crying inside?
Dying slowly from fears that succumbs broken heart
She is imagining her life within this part
She needs to stand again, and control her own guide
Her paths are not gold bricks, there will be no wizard
A brave soul will emerge, face upcoming blizzard.