My Season
Streaks of jagged incandescent vines that illuminates the sky so bright,
And with it's every piercing strike,
Might leave no man alive
For some are terribly affright,
Whilst some are watching, listening—stupefied
As the thunderous angry night falls haphazardly within sight
Whereas rain fell in great sheets that sets the town soaking wet
Along with the hustling current that yet still hugs presents itself
At the moment I'm muffled by a coverlet and such a blanket concealing my neck,
"Perhaps the turbulent season has come earlier." I expect
Nonetheless, I welcome you, inevitable mess
- CYBI
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Rain alongside thunder and lightning are constantly lashing out in my place. I was and will always be fascinated of this kind of season so I made a poetry about it because why not? Was it been raining there at your place too?
YOU ARE READING
Ꭾ০εᙢ₰
PoetryJust a compilation of totally not dark poems written by a very sane and totally mentally stable person
