Thunderstorms

She loved thunderstorms.

The chaos and the danger

The cracks of thunder

That shook the walls

The electricity sparking

Right before her eyes

But all the while she was safe

Covered by her blanket

Watching the chaos

From her window

In a way, she was his thunderstorm

Often dark, a bit frightening

The occasional bursts of light

So fascinating it was hard to look away

But just one strike was enough

To end it all, and he knew that

He liked that, he liked the risk

And he also liked the repetition

He liked that when he heard

The roar of her thunder

The bright light would follow

Each and every time

But just like those thunderstorms

She had to come to an end

After all the turmoil and thrill

There would inevitably come a calm

And somehow it happened so subtly

That no one realized it

Until she was gone

No one ever hears the last crack of thunder

No one ever sees the very last lightning bolt

No one ever feels the last raindrop

But it will end.

It will always end.