The Oncoming Storm Winter blue eyes hardened by frost
The searing heat of your soul
Cold edged steel of your hearts
The oncoming storm;
You wear death as a shield -
Hiding from pain,
Afraid of fear. But I touch your face
The iron frown fades
From your brow
Your cheek is wet - wet with
The melting ice of your eyes
Lips so soft, a warm passsion
So gentle, so fiery. Forget hiding, bury fear
I'm holding your hand so
Tightly in mine
If you're the storm
Then I'm in the eye
So safe and warm and
Utterly swept away by you.