The Tempest

A short poem about the biggest storm

From The Chronicles of Death

The Tempest

Life is but a terrible dark tempest
and we are but players in the game.
Every day ending cold, damp and grey
as life itself drives us quite insane.

We've come far in this lonely sojourn
of love, hatred and mortal fear.
We lose our way in the tragic end
trying to see what's not very clear.

Then we finally wake from our slumber
to wash the sands of sleep from our eyes.
There's nothing more to do but cry
for life's span has passed us by.