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.