The Storm


United States
40° 56' 17.9124" N, 89° 47' 39.4404" W

He is the storm
Clouds softly rolling in.
No warning
Only what seems to be the wind in the leaves.
Then lightning strikes!
Faster than reaction
Knives reaching
Claws and teeth bared.
The rumbling thunder soon follows
As his roar rebounds.
He is a force
Nature’s wrath descending
Power unleashed.
He is the storm
Of orange
And black.
He is the storm
Which fades into the shadows
Only leaving the glimmer of his eyes
Lightning in the belly of the dark sky
That disappears in the distance.
He is the storm.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741