I've always loved the thunderstorms,
the wind whistling and moving through the city streets,
as if it's in a hurry to be somewhere in particular.
The thunder clapping and roaring and rumbling through,
just like how my heart beats loudly when I realize something and
I don't want it to be true.
The lightning streaking brightly through the sky,
like a beautiful little streak of truth that's bright
and exposes every little lie.
The rain falling from the sky as if they were tears,
crying and mourning for the things that have been
gained yet lost too quickly,
also washing away lies that exist all around in layers.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
I've always loved the thunderstorms,
the wind whistling and moving through the city streets,
as if it's in a hurry to be somewhere in particular.
The thunder clapping and roaring and rumbling through,
just like how my heart beats loudly when I realize something and
I don't want it to be true.
The lightning streaking brightly through the sky,
like a beautiful little streak of truth that's bright
and exposes every little lie.
The rain falling from the sky as if they were tears,
crying and mourning for the things that have been
gained yet lost too quickly,
also washing away lies that exist all around in layers.
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