The Storm Before The Calm Poem by Matthew Holloway

The fuse lit
And page set upon
Words firing out
With the rat a tat
Of a machine gun
Impassioned words
Angry, inspired words
Wherever they came from
Whatever they mean
They are flowing
Burning through now
Demanding to be writ
And heard, listen to
They are crafted
In a tempest of thought
The pen like a blacksmiths hammer
Beats out in creation
For now we wait in anticipation
To see what follows
The storm before the calm