In the tempest of sorrow, where clouds hang low, Heavy with grief, like tears that freely flow. A downpour of sadness, a relentless rain, Droplets of despair, each carrying its own pain. Thunderous heartache echoes through the night, A symphony of sorrow, a mournful plight. Lightning memories, striking, burning bright, Illuminate the darkness, an anguished light. Winds of melancholy, a relentless force, Sweep through the soul on a remorseful course. Turbulent emotions, like waves on the sea, Crashing and colliding, consuming me. Yet within the chaos, a whispering calm, A sanctuary found in the heart's own psalm. After the storm, a quietude descends, Healing begins as the tempest wends. As the rain's last whisper fades into the air, A landscape transformed, burdens laid bare. The sky, once tumultuous, now serene, Colors of hope emerge, a vibrant sheen. Mist rises gently from the dampened ground, Nature's sigh of relief, a soft, subtle sound. The echoes of thunder now distant, past, A cathartic release, a stormy repast. In the aftermath, petals unfurl in the dawn, Resilience awakened, a spirit reborn. The tempest, a chapter in life's grand story, A testament to strength, to hope, to glory.