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What do u think is the best part of the rain   For meThat spark of light That flashes Just like a ray of hope And lighten up the gloom Or maybe the lightning of two souls
I hear the deep rolling growl of my fathers pick up truck pulling into our driveway The plumes of smoke filling the air like an ominous grey cloud of warning.  
"Who are you," he asks, "Are you a god or a fool?" I tweet in response, "Noobmaster, It's Thor again..." Hammer and beer at my side.  
The shocking electric pulse, Flowing through my veins. I’m charged and strong, Ready to fly, Through the driving rains. I drop a single bolt,
He shook me furiously and the thunder shook the house surrounding my fragile skeleton.   ~awatr
Alone in the middle of the night A creak, a flash of light Darkness shattered after a crash
my words have power like thunder in an otherwise quiet night they reach ears miles from their source a crack of light with each ink stain while the message is carried across cities  
Thunderstorm in the attic: Nonsensical.   There is a storm in my home. She rips through my hall, growling. The ‘patter’ of rain begins to pummel my oak floor.
It is raining The lightning lashes The thunder roars I am running towards a lone figure collapsed upon the ground It is raining
The angry skies on a sleepless night, Rolling thunder, flashes of light, A tireless battle midst roiling clouds.   A quick parry, a sudden thrust, Their booming voices,
The clouds start moving in, obscuring the midday sky. They layer upon one another, blocking out all available sunshine.   The wind picks up, rushing through the trees.
Deep-throated thunder booming across the vale Shattered glass and Called out to my heart like home.
The rain falls and it sounds like bullet casings; The rain falls and it sounds like home.  The thunder comes and I am hiding,  Under a table, away from you. From your thunder-clap hands,
Lightning One... Two... Three... Four.... A rumble..... Then a silence... The rain didn't count as a sound in this storm too It's falling drops were gentle, against this sky made without blue
It trips and then falls The spark from the cloud carpet Lights its startled face.
In your eyes is rain on the dese
I am I am nothing but I can eventually be something I am two eyes and heartbeat and mouth that is full of words I am the heart that beats inside of me and the blood that pumps through my veins
Retreat, regroup Wind pummels rocky water, Kinetic greets potential, Bearing down on the steadfast shore.   Prequel of froth Turbulent and tumultuous, Echoed in the susurrus of spectators,
Growl of the Gods- [Title provided by Bravo Blane]-Stella D’Vine I sit there looking down, a permanent scowl upon my face. I rip at the ground, my nails digging into the soft mud, pulling the grass out of the root.
Soft, Calm, Cataclysm Thats what I call a storm Barely suppressed fury Thats what I call a storm
          I have so much to do and so much to say And I know that if I was able to remove that one thing from my chest that one thing that keeps the light in
Feeling that cool, soft breeze against my skin feels, feels amazing...
  One could spend an eternity of Light and Waves To fathom what’s just beyond the charcoal borders Drowning everything in the passage of its escape.
I feel a poem like you feel rain hanging in the air, stirring the skies soon to strike skin but not quite yet the way birds declare spring miles before you smell puddles how the beetles cower in tree-nooks
Let me hear the rolling thunder Let me stand out in the rain Envelope the days and troubles Wash away the hidden stain
Hear the rushing and the gushing Of the wind’s resounding might, O’er the ruckus of the rain
Droplets of water fall from the sky
I never thought the day would come
Like how only the sky can feel the lightning, thunder and rain only i know the feeling of empty loneliness the true distance between me and happiness only i can fake the smile and hide the tears
I wish I lived alone so no one would have to hear the rain fall and the rolling thunder Instead I hide and bury myself in blankets and pillows in fear of being heard.
Why, my daisy, Do your petals droop? Fading, falling to the ground? And why, my daisy, Do you bow down to the wind When gusts growl and roar with rage?
I hear the soft footsteps of rain outside my window, It’s louder friend only seconds behind. They bring me no fear, No wariness, no excitement.
Look outside.  Close your eyes.  Listen to the rain.  Block out all the pain.  Hear the thunder.  It makes your heart wonder.  Open your eyes.  Ignore all the lies.  Watch the lightning 
Thunder claps its own song, Rain drops its own tune, Wind whistles its own melody and all that comes from me is this poem
The rain was cold and nipped the skin, The Thunder boisterous, And the Lightning un-disciplined. It teased the silver Guardian While the thunder spoke in a lion’s roar Of the approaching soul.
The rain, it is my comfort, when I sit, alone, in darkness, my thoughts completely consumed by you.
The thunder sounds different here - like a metal trash can thrown gently to the ground. It echoes weakly, dissipating sadly on hesitant wings. It’s not the same as at home where it rumbles and grumbles,
Shining drops caress the leaves Singing the song the nighttime weaves. Lightning flashes, the thunder chimes To the chaos of my mind. Passionate love, wild like fury. The edges of reality becoming blurry.
The sky is dark and haunting. It speaks with a voice that echoes across the world in omnipotent waves, forcing the weak into the shadows. Pockets of grey precipitation are illuminated intermittently by a heavenly source.
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