My Longing Thrill (poem)

Harsh blow of directionless wind tripping myself  teasing me to fly;

As I stood erect on the centre of this massive terrace, wind continued fisting upon me;

I am about to take off, I am going fly, no direction just glide;

why should rain lag behind,  she seem so desperate to crush on me;

Ice cubes or rain I don’t know, not in ace strike, they showered in thousands,

stinging my skin felt like my skin piercing, weakening my bare limbs;

But all these torture is so little compared to bedevil thunderbolts;

Rudderless  pattern of  bolts sketching sky with hostile storm;

Jeopardizing me with each sky breaking sound she made,

numbing my ear mocking is that all your strength;

She seem so succubus threatening to kill yet want me to survive;

Draining all my strength but fuelling me to face and win the fright;

Monolithic  flashes charging enough to turn night into a day;

I can open my eyes only little against the Brobdingnag effect but still

could witness astounding colours varying wavelength emblazoning darkness;

Quivering I, these are all so live ‘cause tonight is like no other night,

She continued blazing from every corner of the sky,

I could see her live reflection gleaming on my bare wet skin;

This could be my best twenty seven hundred seconds of my life;