"Storms Never Last"

I am like the palm tree
Shaped palmate my hands
Fingers spreading screaming,
The parasite to hide away
On the shores of home
Before death takes me
Where I soar on high,

The sun shining a glow
Behind the mountains
So beautiful there,
The sparkling diamond
Charcoal before light
My fate cast in the fire
Far from that memory,

Seeing the devil evil in him
The bastard to beat me
And lay on my tombstone
His bouquet of flowers,
Cultivated a black rose
In the spring of my life
Without honor dying broken –

Hiding away my confused mind
From the cruel one, his eyes
I cultivate neither thorns nor lies.
I’ll always remember my home
The haunted man in the child
From where the palm trees grow
And storms never last to die.

I want to write my poems
To where I soar again,
I come from everywhere
To visit among the arts
The mountain that I am,
Beautiful when I first saw you
The child in me hiding from myself –

I will not say I’m sorry
That my tears embarrass you
They are the truth I cannot deny,
Reminding me of yesterday
A million years away
From this new life -
Resonating joy of freedom.