Tornado heart is howling in its cage
Your downward spiral gripped you where you stood:
Your mind to numb, your worries to assuage,
And grind to powder any thought of good.
Yet in your soul, that long-neglected pit,
There rocks a heart so sensitive and pure;
Afraid of you, and you afraid of it,
It will not shout, but silently endure.
Could I but fashion feathers of my care
And calm the fearsome storm within your mind,
Your soul with new-formed wings would leave its lair
Emerge upstanding, brilliant, brave and kind.
Those wings I made must stay upon their shelf,
For I know you must calm the storm yourself.