the tempest of the soul

Behold, the tempest of the soul, where love and fury take their toll.
A force that none can tame nor bind, a gale that sweeps through heart and mind.
It roars from depths unseen, unheard, more wild than any beast or bird.

This love, it is no gentle breeze, no zephyr whispering through the trees.
It is the storm, the hurricane, that rends the ship and floods the plain.
A maelstrom of the heart's desire, that sets the very soul on fire.

I stand before this vast expanse, a victim of love's cruel dance.
The waves crash 'gainst the rocky shore, as in my chest, emotions roar.
For she, the one who holds my heart, has torn my very world apart.

Her eyes, the lightning in the sky, her touch, the thunder rolling by.
Her kiss, the calm within the eye, her absence, the tempest's mournful cry.
Oh, love is not a tranquil sea, but a tempest that will not let me be.

It rages without end or start, a tempest born within the heart.
A storm that none can quell or quench, that leaves the strongest soul entrenched.
In love's fierce grip, we rise and fall, like waves that heed the siren's call.

For what is love but passion's storm, that takes our fragile lives by storm?
It lifts us high, then casts us down, bestows a crown, then snatches gown.
A tempest fierce, a tempest wild, that treats the heart as but a child.

So here I stand, a man forlorn, by love's tempestuous fury torn.
A soul that's cast upon the tide, with naught but love to be my guide.
For in this storm, I find my fate, within the tempest's heart I wait.