draft

I wrote the first draft of the poem. I want to make the image of lightning vivid.


I call it "A Stroke of Lightning"

His voice, like thunder
rumbling through my head -
frightens me, trembles me,
occurs when the lightning
splits the heaven and
strikes the earth.

At night when I sleep
the roaring thunder creeps -
feigning like a lullaby;
silencing an outcry
pinning me down
far deep

When morning comes,
an uproar fades -
the lightning hits
the same spot twice;
leaving no blister
not even a trace

Yet, when mother asks me
not to tell a soul -
I see the stains
on the hem of my skirt, and
feel the flare
burning even more.