Ode to a Thunderous Soul

I don't want anyone to think that men alone go through mid-life crises, because I do not believe we are the only ones who do.  Ode to a Thunderous Soul can be poignant to almost anyone at almost anytime.  Things like this happen because life is not all sweet and buttery all the time.

So once again, I have dipped my quill into the depths of my soul and inked the following poem.  I don't know why it is so easy for me to pen this sort of writing.  Perhaps it is my inner Canis Lupus which aches to for the wild, untamed highlands of the unknown.  Perhaps it is Poe's twisted alter-universe where the mind is free to come and go as it damned-well pleases tormented by the Pendulum of life.  Either way, beware of my thunderous soul...


Dark clouds race before my eyes,
                                lightning flashes no disguise.

Can you sense my thunderous soul,
                                prepped for war with just one goal?

To rid myself of angst and pain,
                                ne’er to come this way again.

Oft I stroll to realms not seen,
                                existing only in my mind and dreams.

A world that I alone command,
                                a distant, foreign, open land.

No more I wish to be confined

                                but free my soul - unleash my mind.

Alas, this war, it rages on
                                fueled by unrest and lyric’d song.

Condemned unrest by choice I find
                                that time no longer can rewind

Back to a time before today
                                when life was free and full of play.

Oh, how my stormed soul longs to be
                                freed from life’s captivity...

But like Icarus I long to fly
                                beyond my walls perhaps too high

Yet in the end I’ll tumble down -
                                my thoughts and dreams ash on the ground.

Who’ll sweep them up or air them off
                                the edge of time and set them soft

Upon the skin of life anew
                                under stars or skies of blue?
But caught upon reality

                                are markers of my sanity...
Others counting on my stead
                                to keep them safe and bring them bread.
Povide parental guidance and
                                a mate with dreams and future plans.
But just as fast as Heav’n is found

                                I fear storm clouds will gather round,

And wake my wandering soul again
                                with thunder, lightning, raging wind.

Beware the clouds within my view
                                their acid rains may fall on you...