The Perfect Storm

The thunder begins to roar.
The lightening begins to strike.
The winds begin to quicken.
Signs of a storm.
Others may need shelter or protection
but not I.
Winds giving off energy and assurance.
Others may search the sky and fret,
but not I.
That crackling sound of
lightning giving life to another.
Giving a pulse...
the chance to revive and rejuvenate.
Others may see destruction,
but not I.
The light we see
which comes and goes,
the light which creates
the sound wave,
giving birth to thunder.
Others may
cover their ears,
but not I.
Rain finally surrenders
and falls,
covering and quenching.
It is the perfect storm
that replenishes and heals.
It steals hurt.
It scares away the things
that try to take away
the good and pureness
of your own heart.
Putting you soundly into
a deep slumber.
And when you awaken,
there is your sun.
My sun.
For the sun and the storm
are the same.


My eternal sunshine


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