THE SHORT-RUN STORM

Quay away from shores

With a turf of fear amidst the storm

I find an aid close to heart

But….I leap a ‘but’ in every move

For every time I sway away the truth

Delusion far ahead of me

Why didn’t I get the power to read?

The persons’ intension before I seed

The trance of friendship embraces me

For  I enter  the storm  anew

Countermining my noetic essence

Giving an ache again in throat

I may be left  with the same pain in heart

For this sole reason I love the ‘but’

As it keeps me aside the desolating storm.