Untitled

On a dark and stormy night
On a cold and lonely road
Stands a figure of a woman
In the shadows all alone
The wind whips all around her
The cold nips at her skin
Her face illuminated
By the low light of the moon
Her face it is so stoic
No emotion in sight
Her body stands rigid
As she stares into the night
She almost looks ethereal
With her long and silky hair
How still and straight it sits
Untouched by the stormy air
The trees beside her dance
As the storm rages all around
Leaves tumble through the air
Litter flies up from the ground
A vortex of debris
Fills the indigo sky
So violent and so loud
But quiet at the same time
Lightening strikes and hits the tree
A bough all but explodes
Sending splinters sky high
Branches tumble to the road
And yet she doesn't startle
Doesn't flinch or move away
As lightening bolts pass her by
Narrowly missing her on their way
It's as if she isn't really here
Like she is a ghost
An apparition of fragility
And I find myself engrossed
Who is the woman?
And why is she there?
There's something so familiar
But what, I am not sure
She turns to look at me
I startle in my place
It's then that I recognise
That pale and stoic face
I take a step away from her
She quickly fills the gap
I try to back away
But she matches me step for step
The storm has gone silent
The wind suddenly calm
My eyes draw back to her
And she reaches out her hand
As soon as she touches me
Her hand burns on my face
The world disappears
Quickly without a trace
Though the darkness lifts
And I realise I'm alone
Relieved that I am safe and sound
And thankfully back at home
As I look around the room
I jump when it's her I can see
Before I realise it's a mirror
And what I'm staring at is me.