Art from Karl James Mountford.

From Where Comes The Storm

The thunder cracked and clapped and cried
As night flashed in rage, and I raged inside
The street lamps were bathing in buckets of rain
The wind was a banshee, battering the pane

With blankets turned back like the wink of an eye
The bed bared its womb and beguiled me inside
And there I thundered and cracked and cried
Til the street lamps were clean and the banshee grew tired

And when I was empty the lightening went quiet
My body fell still and the thunder subsided
And letting my lids draw a close to the storm
I dreamed of a sun rising radiant and warm