There was a relief in feeling the storm’s approach,

No anger, only calm,

No in between.

I was a man built of flesh and fear,

cowering in its shadow.

The snarling sound of death always near,

its crooked face haunted my dreams

In which the grass was always bright green,

and flowers bloomed in blood-red streams.

There was a relief in being in the storm’s presence,

No sadness nor fear, as I was quite ready to disappear.