A Confession in a Tanka

Exhilarating, That day, when I stabbed the sky, The world slept in peace, The horizon bled to dawn, And I killed, ruthlessly, the night.

Dead storms, mornings bright ft. Tanka

The storm is all dead, Instantaneously gone, Shattered by the winds: Broken glass in lucid hands, capturing sun rays alone. ~ for storms will come, and storms will go, but you will make the sun shine bright on yourself with the very things that your storms will break…