The wind as cold as loneliness
rhythmically whipping my back,
the sky a whirlpool of misery
a palette of purple and black.

Bullets of hailstones ricochet
natures snare drum beats,
a string of frozen pearl drops
bedeck the naked streets.

The sea erupts in anger
exploding waves leap tall,
unleashed the mighty stallions
jump the scarred sea wall.

Caught in the maze of crosswinds
a seagull falls from the sky,
above the storm ensemble
echoes a shrill death cry.

Waves of icy fingers
gripped like a palsied claw,
pierce through trembling shadows,
rape the frigid shore.