Looking for Home

My fingers clawed into old earth, Desperate for the feeling of warmth, Sighs of safety echoing against the gales, These blackened skies can’t find me here, Further below reality, The nausea of yesterday a memory, A better world will be below, I can’t give up,

Nails cutting against sharp stone, What could this be, Solid surface no roots dare penetrate, The smell of iron continues its assault,

I have to root myself, So many storms lie on the horizon, One after the other, I refuse to be blown away.