Perhaps my refuge from the storm

I have been deluged by the ceaseless stormwaters

stripped of all strength, raped of any sense of value

and then you enter from the rain, heralded by the thunderclaps

and you stand before me as a beacon, and perhaps my refuge

 

Please take me in to your shelter, allow my senses to crystalize

rebuild to some new form, a resemblance of someone recognizable

for I am weary of the cold reality pummelling the pavement

and would rather embrace, close my eyes and cry into your damp hair

 

– Chris George  

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