A flash of blue: the night is bright.
A sizzling streak, or welder's light.
A power source has thrown a dart
to split the skies above apart.
The air is cool. The dart is hot
A Giant fires a rifle shot.
It rumbles through the valleys round.
Another dagger strikes the ground.
The face of heaven starts to sweat.
The drops roll down and puddle wet.
And when the energy is spent
We wonder where the power went.
He was the cool kid. She was hot.
His friends all dared him, "take the shot",
The spark that started lust ablaze.
Her heartbeat thundered neath his gaze.
And friendship cool was passion hot,
She called it something he did not
for she believed in futures bright,
but he just took a dare one night.
A shoulder cold, and temper hot,
The rain poured down her face a lot.
And words like thunder shook the heart
And sparks of hatred split apart.
Relationships built just on lust
Hold little love and lesser trust.
And when the passion storm is spent
A soul's left wondering where it went.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem