The Tempest

As wind beats upon wearied brow, ears ring with thunders mighty growl

Cold prompts feet hasten to hearth and home, while rains bitter sting drives ice to the bone

As the sky above is torn with brief, cruel light, darkness for a moment hides his face

Though path illumined no guidance is given, his gaze returns, eyes without grace

In his shroud, through the torrent, determination is wrought

Will to iron is crafted and courage is bought

Fear is the price, comfort the purse, but to hold to those riches the fate would be worse

Shoulders hunched in, strong light within

Face turned down, resolution found

Numb legs carry on

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