Storm Child (Pulse Of Levitas Telum)

"The trouble ain't that there is too many fools, but that the lightning ain't distributed right." -

Mark Twain

Storm Child

(Pulse Of Levitas Telum)

I’m trapped underneath these dark-grey storm skies. Waiting for my birthright fate to realize- a purpose or a dream that God had for me, when my mom conceived this unaware baby. Well, the tapping rainstorm and thunderous skies lifts this shivering body back to life. I’m following the boundaries of the pouring rain, in this forest that never appears the same. My eyes are locked with anticipation, due to my storm sky fascination. My heartbeat throbs with a lightning clash, I’m possessed to pursue Nature’s mortal tasks.

I, the tree of tranquility, born with a face of humanity. I, the seed of fertility, grown in the membrane of your darkest fantasies. And underneath these angry thunderstorms, powerful beings push to be born. So, free your spirits to the floating isles and renounce your mortality to the storm child.

She who shall let thou eyes behold the lightning bolts retrieve thy soul. She who shall purge thy earthborn heart and submerge it into the dark. A sovereign who rules the upward earth, whose prayers favor mortal hurt. A pervert goddess who churns the winds, whose bolts target mortal men. Her spurts of magic are attracted to lighting rods. She is an alluring succubus to all the other gods. A hellish majesty cursed with the menstrual cycle of the female breed. A heartless, seductress beast whose alerted eyes meet behind the sparking orbs of electricity.

She is the dragon that guards these battled skies from the intruders that collide inside her kingdom. She is a queen that flies on temper tantrums from her cloud throne in her stormy sanctum. And I shall participate to persuade the inflictions of her parade of pandemonium. There is no need for an introduction- for an angel with a chemical imbalance of destruction. Lighting chaos. Wind havoc. Rain mayhem. Malevolent addict, let your intimidating lighting bolts strike upon their harvest grounds. Let fires ablaze and give birth to the flaming gardens that shall soon surround. Madly striking your topaz staff from your royal throne. Upon your head, a crown composed of branching thorns of lightning bolts. Forfeit thy fragile bodies and submit thy feeble brains to the witch with a twitch for human redemption and a sprinkle of insane.

I am breathing with another’s breath. I am feeling with another’s skin. I am gazing inside hazy storm eyes, hearing my voice chant for immortal sins. My arms are lifted toward the skies, fingertips pulling without my mind. I am someone else at this hour in time, perhaps a storm child on this earth, confined. I can hear your thundering dragon growls crackling behind the grey storm clouds. Your dangerous flashes alight these lands with such a deadly beauty that I can understand.

I, the robed wanderer who journeys my life away. You, the unseen archer that darkens the sun of day. A turban wrapped around my head, the winds blow my shredded cape while I climb up the highest mountains in search for my escape. And YOU, my beautiful, imperial queen. Just PLEASE break these heavy chains of HUMANITY!

Such soft lips overlap mine in a slow, intimate kiss. A mysterious, shrouded face in the rain’s clouded mist. I admit defeat in her embrace of tingling intimacy, while she ravenously took away my earthborn virginity. My spirit followed her up to the dark clouds aligning, while I looked down and saw my lifeless body, electrocuted by her lightning. I crossed over into a kingdom built in the imagination of mortal horrors and twisted pleasures. There, my soul shall be kept forever above the warring, storm clouds of mother nature.

(The picture of Lightning above is copyrighted by Torsten Hufsky.)