PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I've peaked the farthest mountain.

Scaled it clean with ease.

Pressed through many so called torments

And disease.



The strongest shaking winds

Were but a gentle breeze.

And every blackened thunder cloud

Seemed gray to me.



Where hurricanes made death

I looked them in the eye.

Walked away in disappointment.

Couldn't even make me cry.



And what tsunami

Did I not eat up like sweet salami?

Shedding stupid dirt specs thrown upon me.

And walking forth like such a zombie.



Yes, I cleared a path

And made a riddle of these called 'disasters'

In the midst of all my laughter.



Then, how is it I could quell the winds,

The bolts, and make them stop.

Yet...

Still resign and drown in just your one teardrop thereafter...