A storm is brewing
On the horizon covered with old trees and dying things reaching towards its darkness, hungry to be swept up in raindrops and flashes of desire
Bold clouds twist in and over dreams and stars and galaxies long since dead, lost to memory or god whims
Striations of silver linings left long ago by hopeless dreamers curve in and over the balance of storm and sky as the rumblings of electricity meet air shatters calm nights nearby
it is beautiful.