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The Tempest
Voices in the silence
Whispers with no sound
Muffled more by pounding rain
In sheets, it hits the ground
A single chill runs down my spine
Eyes wet, I blink to see
Trees bent low by blustery wind
The storm of the century
It started very different
With sunlit rays that blind
Cotton balls dancing ballet
In forget-me-not blue skies
But floods threaten to drown me
Now, the only color, grey
Memories of morning disappear
Will I survive today?

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