Storms

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The sky was my shelter till it began to cry.

The kite was my muse till it flew away.

The wind was my songstress till it started knocking trees down.

The sun was my savior till its glare faltered facing the storm.

The hurricane was my kidnapper till I became a part of it.

It became my savior instead.

Four walls became my shelter instead.

Words became my muse instead.

Ink and keyboards became my songstresses instead.

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