Who stood firm against thine tempest
I as alway thine shelter
Who gave thee shore forsooth
I as alway your rock
Who brought thee freshness when thou thirsted
I as alway your river
Yet a cruel flower, she win thy hand
Thou hast condemned me to shadowy memory
I your fairest muse.
Thou cast my voiced gift from thee
I your muse could nae thaw thine heart
Shall I stand still as tree
I watch thy fateful rose wound yea again.
Nae, I yet endure a fettered wraith of natures song
I watch thine heart bleed full and red love.
Who taketh thine hurts and shield thou
I as alway your shelter
Who let thee lean thyself to rest
I as alway your rock
who let thee grace for sustenance
I as alway thine river.
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
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