This is a hauntingly beautiful journey into the mind of someone who is lost in darkness and silence — a girl who believes she is a word no one is courageous enough to speak. As darkness, thunder, and isolation close in around her, she starts to find strange solace in nature’s upheaval, as though in some way it understands her better than people. But then something shifts — she discovers a new word: hope — and in a flash, a tiny spark appears in the tempest, indicating that even in the darkest depths, light is never far off.
Maybe she truly was a word unspoken
And that’s why the whole cosmos seemed to darken
Locked in a room
Stuck with this overbearing doom
The rain whispers from the window
From a sky so dark and hollow
The storm is more refreshing
And the thunder sounds more alluring
Nature calls from the distance
It is welcomed at every instance
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There is an almost relief in this lacuna
in the abyss of this still river
Inpatient rush to the elysium fields
the anticipation slowly builds
She heard a new word today
Or a lot of other time where she stay
They called it hope with assurance that it’s real
It exist deep down in the tumult of feels
They say it exists here and everywhere
The light, the darkness
maybe she’s just a witness.
Imagine this…
You are at the window, light dim, chaotic not with items but with thoughts. Maybe you have too — that the walls are closing, that silence can be stronger than words, that life is sliding by you and not to you. The rain thumps lightly against the window, but it feels like pounding against your breast, asking you if you remain within. You’re not sad so much, just stuck, suspended between experiencing everything and nothing simultaneously.
And then, suddenly, in all of that stillness, somebody says something—”hope.” A small word, barely there, and yet it sounds in your heart louder than a thunderclap. It doesn’t solve everything at once, but it plants something… a spark, a whisper, a maybe. And that was all she needed—that’s all you need sometimes. Because maybe, maybe, even in the dark, you’re not lost… you’re just a witness to your own slow unrolling.
The Bottomline…
And the thing is — life isn’t always loud or full of answers. Sometimes the strongest moments are in the quiet, in the in-betweens, in the quiet corners where we’re left to sit with ourselves. That’s where growth happens. That’s where we learn that darkness doesn’t always mean the end — sometimes it’s just a pause before a new beginning.
The moral: Don’t push your way through your feelings or suppress your moments of sorrow. Let them be. See them. Feel them. Let them wash through you. Because in between the tempest, the ache, or that other location referred to as “waiting,” you’re finding strength you didn’t know you had. And when light does arrive, you’ll appreciate it more — not because it is light, but because you understand how to look squarely even at darkness.
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3 replies on “Whispers in the storm”
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