The poem finished.

With reference to THIS, an inspiration for an unfinished poem, is now finally finished, in army camp *gasp*.

So without further ado, here it is.

A prelude to a Storm Subsiding

A prelude to a

Tickle;
the patter of tattoos
petering the passages of the heart
and pensive, passive, plosives
that urges to
proceed -

Storm

Throbbing, throbbing bleakly abreast the beat and
ebbing, it brings to break its swollen banks.
The brook has flooded, breakers breached.
My river flows not in rain, it beats,
blaring its pleads and needs
as crash of thunders, peals of lightning
flash and splash
that illuminates
what feeds your appetite.
Still the ice that lie within as
you feast upon men.

Subsiding

It ends, like it should, as always, as all else,
the victims walk away unscathed.
But the river of the heart
bleeds a lonely, longing
tear.


[end]

I quite like it. It's personal.