Medusa's Locks
Thrashing like Medusa's locks,
water-whipped kelp, lash and flay.
And angry waves pummel rocks,
while morphing into a spray.
The sky's a cauldron of clouds,
churning like a dark witch's brew.
And wrapped in ebony shrouds;
not a single star shines through.
As lightning ignites the dark,
thunderclaps make the ground quake.
And gusty winds leave their mark,
debris swirling in their wake.
The moon, a shade of curie;
can't pierce the storm with its beam.
And trees, fearing its fury,
bow when the wind gets extreme.
The storm wails throughout the night;
filling rivers with its tears.
Yet, exhausted by Dawn's light;
it suddenly disappears.
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