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Whether to Cry or Destroy

The salt from my eyes burn

As does the acid of my tongueMight a tempest relive me of sound and sight

Might I unearth the hatchet and put it to proper use

My hand is poised and in fury

Only thunder gives me restDare me to breathe

When I can't catch my breath

Sway my temper's balance

Only thunder gives me rest

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