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THE STORM
Blue sky gives way to black billowing storm clouds, seeming to scream death,no...
they are death! Screaming lightning and barking
thunder,like angry black cauliflower.
The sun trying ever so hard to
break free of its rage.
He, he who is the one who watches the storm,
not in fear but in complete and total awe.
He is the falcon watching
the nest, the solider guarding his post, refusing to be fearful.
BAM,CRASH!!! the storm roars on trying to scare the watcher who
stands solemnly at his spot, glaring at the storm as if it where a
simple mouse, not a monster barking electricity.
Electricity the very
thing that runs your home and possibly your life is cut off by the
storm, and yet the watcher watches on with the eye of the storm,
even if he is man, he and the storm and he share the same eye.
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