To plot the psychology of a storm, in the meteorology of the mind
a hurricane is born, with an eye that is blind
It\'s which hemisphere, that does steer the spin or direction
When skies are clear, it would appear a depression, with no threat of detection
The flows of its highs and lows, chart its path and ferocity
Strength grows in a hidden heart that shows turmoil\'s atrocity
In the storm, reality is torn as warm waters increase its force
In the crash of the sea, paranoia is born all along its course
The howling wind\'s wails, begins destruction\'s trails as it makes ground
Raising water and rain, with the rails of denial\'s pain, is the gale\'s pounding sound
A tidal surge the last bastions submerge, until is found a hope that does arise
the belief of champions, sublimation\'s high ground in a blind eye\'s blue skies