Fourth.

Loosing independence through my own will has tossed me into the eye of the cyclone.

In the days that flowed into weeks, followed by months,

I lived there, unaware of the confusion fate was waiting to bestow upon me.

What we hear tends to flow past us.

How foolish I was to fly through those words.

In the destruction one thing is clear,

I underestimated the furry of this storm.

Not understanding the severity of its forecasted impact.

Nothing left to do but pick up the remainder of my possessions, and walk away from the wreckage.

I plead for time to help rebuild and fortify my temple from such future atrocities.

Yet I am not able to find all the fractured shards of my love.

So they are sacrificed to experience, and I abandon them in the rubble.

Hoping that her light may one day honor their soft and subtle beats,

That shall echo throughout every corner of eternity.