Whispers of rage, they coil and they seethe,
wrapped in the silence of a steel sheath.
In my veins, the storm, it brews so fierce,
clashing with the calm, my soul it pierces.
Violent tendencies, a tempest’s roar,
crashing against the gentle breeze at my core.
A duel of spirits, a war unleashed,
where whispers of anger meet the peace.
Every breath a battle, a struggle within,
between the chaos that tempts and the calmness akin.
The hurricane’s heart hides in quiet repose,
underneath the zephyr’s light, where nobody knows.
Can you see the storm behind my eyes?
Do you feel the calm that within me lies?
A paradox wrapped in a paradox,
fighting a war where nobody wins, nobody stops.
Softly now, the winds begin to shift,
carrying the tempest as if a gift.
Balancing the fury with a tender grace,
finding a stronghold, a sacred space.