Welcome again to
the eye of the storm
Great huge screaming
cloud of death, almost
living out its own energy
Outside the air is still alive
feeding power to itself
fusing pressure to fantastic
wind tunnel traps.
Watchful of the effects, I
sense before actually seeing
object ride the fury of this
Not quite panicked, restless though
Feels like some wild passion instinct
of the timberwolf.
Violence, destruction, chaos
annihilated metal, wood splintered
Pure shattered instruments of rage
the rage of gods or angels.
When electric impulse steals in
and streaking the sky...
that eye proves its hypnotic gaze
excitement in an instant.
Out here in the storm
the feeling is a rush of danger
several small doses of adrenalin
the moment, next to critical.