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Pleasure in Lightening Bolts

The celestial orb cowers behind thick cumulonimbus thunderheads,
as the stiff,
blackened world outside my window sill roars,
amongst the calm is birthed the depths of a bass,
bellowing from the window ledge.

Ominous figures and faces morph with a glower,
silhouettes of clouds ignite in thick branches that illuminate their hedges,
it is close to midnight and I let the sheets envelop me in this bed.

A light trickle emerges within this foreshadowing,
serendipity awaits in a mere five minutes,
may the nocturne hinder confrontations with dreadful dreams.

As my consciousness lifts like disbanded, glowing sprites,
the curse of somnolence is thus revoked with the narcotic sleep-inducing storm,
while I rest lightening collides with clouds sending ricochets.

Thunder might petrify young infants weary of night,
yet I feel at ease,
tranquility befriending me,
so I sleep until dawn when the storm deteriorates.




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