There is one hurricane that's blind.
I have yet to find the eye.
It spins in chaos, round and round,
Leaving peace yet to be found.
If what was inside could be outside, maybe I would worry less. Tornadoes may surround me in a world thats constantly warring. But the hurricanes--sweet, sweet hurricanes--they would gently show this tiny creation how to save a second chance.
There is one hurricane that's good
Causing chaos like one would,
but all the chaos is inside--
Two beating hearts create the eye.