The wind that blows so wild
Threatens to rip me limb from limb,
The rain that lashes against me
Promises to pierce my skin like bullets,
Yet here I am in this stormy life
Here I am suffering in these conditions,
Which mimics and defines my existence
And no matter how I try I can muster no resistance,
So I end up suffering the stormy weather
Looking for some sanctuary and shelter,
Hoping for some rest from the relentless abuse
That my mind and body takes from the storm,
That defines my life and my existence.
fauxcroft 
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