What a Wicked Storm

Cover the mirrors and deadbolt the door -
You know the drill around here.
It's hands to your mouth and knees to the floor,
but no deity will lift you from fear.

A wicked storm's coming, it's blazing toward town,
Wind will bring iron to shudder,
The gutters will groan, the floorboards will drown,
The power will die with a stutter.

When everything's silent, and battered, and black,
When water has doused out the sun,
You're looking so pale, can you get your breath back?
Could I maybe help make you less numb?

Could I bring you something that'd help ease the weight?
I don't think words are enough.
Could I try and hold you, and whisper, create
A blanket around both of us?

And even if clouds keeping clogging the sky,
These trees will continue to shelter;
The wreckage will clear and fevers will die,
No matter how helter-skelter.