Brontë in the storm

Darkness billows round me
cool breeze of the turbulent sky rattles me
But, a spell from a distant memory bounds me
And so, my feet–entrenched, will not go

The tall, bent trees bear down,
their leaves shaking threaten to break canopy
The heavens rumble their agreement
And so, I cannot will to go

I cry my cries and watch their contours curl
their tongues slaked on tears shed,
their benevolent boughs sharp
And I, uproot the feet that cannot, will not go

Writer’s note:
This is an inspired parallel piece from-
The night is darkening round me by EMILY BRONTË

5 responses to “Brontë in the storm”

  1. Well done, Rafia! 👏🏼👏🏼❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha! It was a shot XD thank you ^-^

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Nice poem, Rafia, I really felt it. Have a nice day!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! You have a nice one too ❤


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