'The Storm'

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
About thunderstorms

Submitted: August 29, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 29, 2012



The Storm


Battles rage on ashen slate above,

When heavy cold gives rising damp the shove,

Fury on a blade that splits the sky,

Applauding thunder sounds the battle cry,

As though the devil claps his mighty hands,

While God is absent from these darkened lands,

And roll in does the tide of charcoal grey,

To bring upon the night amidst the day,

The charcoal tides that douse the land in rain,

While angry clouds and striking forks sustain,

Below earth’s tiny creatures hide away,

As lightening hunts the sky to seek its prey,

Yet a summer breeze can rid the sky of stain,

And sooth the thunder and relieve the rain,

And strip the hungered lightening of its prey,

And wash away the night that starves the day,

Restoring seamless blue, a sky we trust,

Until the summer fades in autumns rust,

Until the summers breeze has died away,

And the night begins to feed upon the day,

Though ravenous the lightening returns,

In winter tides of charcoal thunder churns,

But welcome are the drops of autumn rain,

When battles rage on ashen slate again



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