His voice is lightning
It shines its pretty light like
a flickering candle through
the Earth's darkness
Just before it strikes
with a bitter surge of violence
And your left confused
So jaded by its ups & downs
that you lock the doors
at a light drizzle of rain
or a small gray cloud
With every reminder of him
You build your walls taller
with steel and stone
Oblivious to the fact
That not every pretty light
In the sky intends to strike you...
To hurt you