Welcome to the Gloomy Hollows
of Spookinite ValleyEst. Sept. 2012
Hurricane
Written by Benjamin Fouché
‘Twas nearly twelve at night when I awoke;
The house was lightless before the clock’s stroke.
The wind was a wind mine ears had never heard before;
Something horrid was arriving on the cursed shore.Out of bed, I hastened through the long, darkened hall.
Yet pausing, I harkened to the hurricane’s call.
The very frame of the house rattled timidly.
And the furious gusts crept in intrusively.Beyond the windowpanes, it was black as coal;
Violence now stirred over the moonless shoal.
By this time, the tempest was indeed angry,
For my acute soul felt each bending palm tree.The heavy pounding in my chest seemed soundless
Compared to the wailing wind that was boundless!
Once more, I felt the house shudder and shift;
The whirling storm was becoming quite swift.Enwrapping my spirit, fear did seize my sight;
I thus sat upon the floor—yearning for light.
And now, as the ocean’s waters foam and crash,
In the regrets of my life, I fall and thrash.
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