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The distant murmurs of a coming storm,
Shutters clatter, curtains call,
Humid heat stills the air,
interrupted by the fist of THOR!
Darkened room now flooded by THE DAY,
Falling back to sepia cast.
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Rumbles, tumbles, battles in the sky,
Flickering, squalling, assaulting ear and eye.
Enervation, spine on fire,
aching, shaking -
the quaking moment betwixt fear and desire.
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The blackened cast fleets like a shadow scared,
But the inner storm dwells in this room, bared.
Tagged in Poetry