I can feel it circling, testing my resolve
It should know up front before it strikes
I am more durable than at first light
The grey is just a subterfuge
Though weaker now, and balance lacking
My will is stronger now than ever
Still, I know the storm is coming
There is no trick to make it go away
It comes at a time of its own choosing
For some, it comes when least expected
For others, after interminable delays
No matter when . . . I know I’m ready
Let it come as phantom, ghost, or shade
Brighter light will overcome it
And though some strength may fade
I stand fast, no thought of running
. . . The storm is coming