There is a storm, brewing closer and closer to the world we built together. It is silent, and its stillness is more deafening than the loudest shrieks of pained dragons. It will leave no house upright. The whole world will fall to pieces under the thunder of its wrath.
There is an explosion about to occur, a heated uproar just along the horizon that will feed a blazing path into the wondrous city we have built. It is fueled by words not spoken and questions not asked. It is maintained by the distrusting minerals, hidden deep within the skeptical concrete that we laid for our town's foundation.
I don't know from whence this maelstrom erupted from, I just know it is about to arrive. I can feel the change in the atmosphere, the sudden increase in pressure and temperature. The deafening silence so powerful that even the songbirds outside have ceased their ballads. I wish there was some way to avoid the onslaught that will be arriving shortly, and I only hope the walls we have erected are strong enough to survive the hail storm that will be pounding on them shortly.
Is there something I can say to make this night turn around? Times like this I wish I had the right words to get us out of here, because you are walking down a road that I can't go. Am I losing you? Have I already lost? Are there directions, so I may find you again?
I am scared to death, please throw me an anchor to settle my worries and stabilize us before we crumble like a sandcastle made of cigarette ashes. Confess your sins and tell me your worries, they may not be as bad as they seem. I promise not to be dead by the time you get home. I promise to stand strong with you against the head wind if you just trust me and take my hand. It is not to late for us to sing the night a lullaby and recapture the daylight of our future. It is not to late...
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