Looks Like a Storm

Another lightning flash, that strikes charcoal skies. On this auspicious evening, darkness covers their lies. One foot in my grave, the other I firmly plant. The rolling sound of thunder, masking their roaring chant. A whitened sheet beguiled, that whirled into the trees. I listened in for bat cracks, while sitting on my knees. No one else would know, of this terrifying affliction. While I did not crave blood, their sounds were my addiction. On these very same nights, parts of the field shine. I find split apart baseballs, and leftover bits of twine. That couple that I know, they walk under an umbrella. Holding hands by the road, young Edward and his Bella.