The Storm

Henry Van Olviline ©   / January 26, 2009
 
With the storm comes the rain
Idle mishap against the window pane
Lightning strikes, illuminating the night sky
The limbs and branches shake with a thunderous sigh
The wrath of natuyre lay upon our heads
Whispering of winds soon will be led
Thunder growls and the earth begins to move
Steady streams of rain slowly begins to soothe
Bolts strike, mposing into the night
The storm will not settle without a fight
Howling winds heard near and far
Inky black hue that bleaks out the stars
What once clammered, simply begins to die
Destruction of the storm, the remnants that lie
The storm moved on, stirring much fright
Thunder heard in the distance, warns it has won tonight