Storm

Dark and refreshingly drowning,
The sky canvas takes new colouring,
Ever so quick it is painted,
The used-to-be clear sky is tainted,
The rain pours marking the beginning,
And it carries varied meaning,
To some it will bring energizing growth,
To others it is another thing to loathe,
It may wash away the fear and pain,
Dissolving a life's troubling stain,
While clarity is drenched and bent,
Deterioration is paused in the moment,
Some drops may freely fall with grace,
Others pound disguising it as a race,
They stomp and splat on the bored floor,
Following every drop and strand comes more,
Then there are the unforgettable wingmen,
Never left behind in the concealed den,
They are the conspicuous echo and shadow,
Chasing and screaming creating a flow,
One brings the exquisite flicker,
Spontaneously random like a trickster,
Lighting up to seek attention,
It glows tickling away distraction,
Coming out to play momentarily,
Stunning the audience incredibly,
Then it shies away after the brightness,
Disappearing in the incredulous darkness,
On the other end fighting for alpha,
Is the inconstant heartbeat of the era,
It builds up a roar of intensity,
For making people jump it is guilty,
Displaying passion in a flaunty manner,
Hitting the auditory sense harder than a hammer,
The pair driven by force wrestles and argues,
With frequent comebacks with no breakthrough,
As one takes over the sky,
The other begins to cry,
There is not an end to this unavailing dispute,
Neither is prepared to give a final salute,
Our senses are tingled with these extremities,
The burning shine gives our slight vision a tease,
The long isolated strike triggers sensation,
While the wet drizzle sprays in this tension,
The invigoration touches us,
Then the dazzling gleam enters campus,
As the miraculous sprinkle gets to finishing,
It marks the end of the beginning,
Releasing the previous anchor,
The new vibrant colours reveal a new chapter.