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by Amber Heck 4 years ago in surreal poetry


On guard. Never could have imagined what storm approached from beyond the bright forest trees and soft, colored skies. The storm, often used as a metaphor for a mixture of emotions, is brought on by our own actions. Actions we never thought would make a ripple. The ripples caused waves. As the storm approaches, the waves grow. Sunlight hides behind the storm, but is invisible to the human eye for the time being. We are so blinded by the clouds and the approaching storm, that we no longer remember the sun and the colored skies before-hand. The trees once so green and vibrant, are now ominous. As it is our fault the storm now swirls above us, we must decide what we must do. Most would wait out the storm to once again see the beautiful skies. Others, let the storm consume them. Taking away their voice and the ability to see the beauty in the world. Silence.

surreal poetry

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Amber Heck

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