The storm has finally gone,

taking with it the crash of the thunder,

 and the scream of rain.

The storm left only the eerie song of the wind, 

lingering like a ghost of the past.

Haunting me as it whistles in the windows. 

My house is tired,

she fought for so long protecting us from the enemy.

With each gust of wind, she groans and creaks,

but she stands strong.

Despite her cuts, bruises, and broken pieces,

she doesn’t give up. 

An image of beauty,

and of pain.

A reflection of human life;

the battles our neighbors are fighting,

unknown to us.

The cracks in the foundation, 

Hidden by flowers and smiles. 

The truth that strength comes from battling the storm.