Destructive,
But beautiful.

The outcome is annoying,
Irritating,
Frustrating,
Tear-provoking,
But ethereal,
At times.

I am a Storm Siren,
I call upon the chaotic ways of nature
To bring forth necessary damage and carnage
In order to inspire growth
And new life,
New perspectives.

I do so subconsciously,
I draw in winds
And thunder and lightning,
The destructive nature
Of rain and floods.

My lightning,
However frightening
Causes fire,
And my thunder,
Will pierce your eardrums.

My rain will drown your sins
With flood waters,
And my winds will
Tear the memory
From your skin.

And I despise my storms,
Because they personify myself,
But I'd rather be a storm,
Than a drizzle.

And I know one day
You'll find me in this storm
I call home,
And put roots in
So together we may grow,
Despite flood waters
And lightning.

And one day
You'll hold me,
And I swear your arms and colors
Are the key to halting
The winds and the thunder,
Because within your arms,
There's only a faint
Whisper
Of the pitter-patter
Of rain.

And when I hear your voice,
I am cleansed of the burning feeling
The fire gives.
Relief is sweeter
Than any pain.

And my heart aches
For your hand
To hold.