The Storm

Again,a poem of heartbreak.

Walking

Talking

Seeing

Reading

Telling

A mountain you can't climb
Break the fortress walls
At the peak,he has 2 choices

Thunder rumbles
Lightning strikes
Slicing my heart

Tripping

Falling

Not flailing,I knew what happened
Stunned

He took leave it
Starting to recover,I wonder
Will I be caught?

Reviews

[Hopeful]

Huh? This doesn't make a lot of sense

[Laughing-Bear]

Emily a powerful write. Your title, “The Storm”, is perfect for describing the unwinding of a relationship with the person we have fused their soul with and now finding ourselves rent apart.
In your first five lines I pondered should “Asking”, have been added? “A mountain you can't climb” made me wonder with my own life would this mountain be a mountain I was unable to climb mentally, emotionally, and spiritually or a mountain I had the foresight to see with clarity how things would unfold and not be willing to go there? Good choice of five words that can say so much.
“Break the fortress walls” was a good way to describe the walls one can find needing removed to allow communication as walls can become fortified when a soul mate feels hurt and threatened.
“At the peak, he has 2 choices”, as a person who has climbed mountains this thought came to me. Either stay up there and eventually die by freezing to death or being blown off the top by storm, or descend and find life. Most life takes place in the lowlands. The problem we men face is we will climb a mountain called pride and refuse to humble ourselves even if it brings about our destruction.
“Thunder rumbles, Lightning strikes, Slicing my heart”! I wondered did the lighting and thunder come from the person on the mountain, or from some unseen force that was reckoned with? Slicing my heart would seem to suggest cutting your heart away from a union, something like two hearts fused together. Did the man on the mountain do this or the unseen force? Either way a very painful concept.
“Not flailing, I knew what happened, Stunned” “He took leave it, Starting to recover, I wonder Will I be caught”? This spoke to me of the possibility of a reaction to emotional, spiritual, and psychological pain. Not something premeditated, more of just a survival reflex. Then thinking to self-moments later, at ground zero, that one needs to let sleeping dogs lie as so to speak. He took could imply a giving of all, such as special as ones virginity, and then having it thrown back into ones face like it was not something to be highly valued. And then wondering will I be caught, suggested to me that others may come to know all my heartache and darkest secrets and continue to assail the women in this poem creating even more pain, or will it all just blow away like morning fog?
I was deeply impressed with your poem and spent a couple of nights pondering it before my fire as I smoked my pipe in reflection. I realize as well I may have missed the point you were trying to convey. Keep up the writing, and I will keep reading.

Blessings, Laughing-Bear