Storm

I have to write.
I yearn to write,
and find the words
to string a lei.

Who is this force
that commands this offering?
If only I could see his face;
I would know what words to string.

The storm within
is just a beginning.
Devastation of the mind,
will surely not lag behind.

Will then the passion unfurl?
Will I then clearly see?
Wont then I find the pearls,
pure and honest, for the lei?

No answers I find
God keeps his sacred silence.
Leaving me to breathe a breath sane
And exhale this mixture insane.