The eye – A poem

I feel as if I am standing in the eye of a storm
With the eurhythmics of the swirling wind
Shouting in my ears a melody that could only be
Comparable to the sound of ghosts
Howling through my chimneys.
This gasconade of chaos and gallimaufry
Has swept up both my angels and my demons
Into the tenacious grip of an unyielding whirl,
As the air surrounding my cynosure
Becomes obnubilated by the minacious tumult.
The turbulence of emotion writhens the atmosphere,
Permeating it with anguish, despondency
And melancholy sorrows,
But also with relief, euphoria
And the birth of new hope.
But while this turmoil may seem electrifying,
And from the exterior, may look tempting,
In the eye of the storm, it’s not as exciting,
When inside I feel only empty.

 

This is an experimental poem I actually wrote quite a long while ago. I just rediscovered it and thought I’d share it. It was a challenge for myself during creative block to find some long, complex words that were new to me and write a poem with them. I think it ended up working quite well because the use of all the chaotic words made the poem seem more wild, which fit the theme of cyclones and storms.