The running Storm

by Sableshade

Call the name into existence

It is our living storm

This being goes on and on, speaking allegiance

It tunes the rhythm, as it strikes the floor

The crackles catch themselves at a glance

Some burst among us sneaking under Seline forms

Others weep around as the static clasp


It forms V claws and flat V fangs

A cuddling born of terror from amassed berate

Not of the confused passion is something abusing

Long bright days on the ground made them think

To love and lost is a feeling of something

To know no losing or concern might make lighting bleak


Pass the lions and birds of prey- the dominant packs

Some have to probate and challenge the storm as beasts

Proving to retribution to take it back

Signing the lost name in dirges, elegies, and effigies

Among these is that creeping familiar swinging flack

An honest friend on a cloudy day turning tort stories


As thin threads of hope make lightning

Illuminate the feeling

Even as a stranger with an eye storming

Contrast the roaring

It will pour cats and dogs, it`ll get boring

Still, steer clear of becoming a burning green housing


Once the name has been cast

Things like rage and sadness can pass

Things like blind outrage may not chase some sun’s task

Tilted curves and thick hail edges should drop at last

Temperance one day can give the bearer a pleasant bass

But understand: This is more than a point about running too fast