Storms - Poem by Pagan Eisenhauer
As the night creeps in and the light slowly fades, mystery seeps through and falls lightly upon the night.
As the wind blows softly, rustling the leaves. It feels light as a caress being layed upon your skin.
As the earth shakes from deep within its cracks and crevesses the only light to be seen is the light that strikes fast from the heavens above. The boom a second later shakes your very core.
As rain falls down, the Gods above sob in sorrow and rage. Every tear is like ice.
Every sensation so very sweet it hits you deep within. You feel as if it were your first.
Comments about Storms by Pagan Eisenhauer
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You