A Storm Approaching
The sky is dark like a polluted water
While the wind blew cold whispers
As I stare blankly at the window
I realize how unease the birds are
They sense what’s coming.
I feel like I was a trapped bird in a tree
With wings I could use as an instrument to escape
The branches that forms as a cage
But I can’t, Im trapped and there’s nothing I could do
I shout and cried as hard as I could
Yet no one heard and come to help.
Though the breeze suggest coldness
The clouds turn pink and red and orange
It is definitely sunset
But without the presence of the sun itself.