anything

Its so windy, windy enough to topple buildings or loosen vices, winds so strong the uproot trees and ill felt foundations. It blows nearly everything away except I stant still in the middle and feel it blow right through me. Wind coming from every direction, sweeping everything close to the edge. losing the distance bewtween what we can and cant touch. This brewing storm is only background music amongst deafening silence, as I fail to see that this is only the eye; the shape of whats to come. The sun is blocked out by the clouds, whose freedom is on shakier ground than my own, who try and warn me. I don't notice, I see it pointless to fight something so huge, when the Earth on which I stand is so uncertain. The future is lost in the horizon which I strain to see, but is hidden beyond the sea of debris which continues to slide. Solid form begins to flow as freely as liquid. The only thing left still is my own complacency, braving the storm better than a thousand sailors. rain falls down from the empty sky, droplets thick and cold which roll off me and get swept into the distance, each one taking with it a fragment of my skin, picking away at my form until only my skeleton stands strong. these pieces I lose are not crucial, they are only parts of my thin outer shell, of which I can afford to lose. something that is only skin deep is quickly forgotten within the maelstrom, my bones absorbing the impact like the Earth absorbes the falling rain. everything else is long gone, swept into the distance, glad to be escaping from the hell which will soon be loose, the storm separates the sky. I stand still as possible, as still as a statue, as steady as the ground I stand upon. It is only the frame of my body left as my mind is elsewhere, trembling as the sky cracks and everything comes tumbling down.