As it strikes.

0 0 0
                                    

The soft, barely noticeable rumble of thunder to lull you to sleep.
The gentle breeze to whisper across an endless sky.
The flash of electricity far away to light your path.
The bright power that cascades and dances around the sky, as if it were in a joyful waltz.

The ancient power that never needed to evolve, what has been here since the beginning of time.
The pure entanglement of time and force, forever a passive foe to be reckoned with.
What could be cruel one moment, and calm the next; however always beautiful.

The enthralling force of pure lightning.

writingWhere stories live. Discover now