Storm-Hunter

It boils.
Burning white,
Ivory hides rise and fall
But under, the dark…

Close, slight space–
Of electric stillness.
The pressure of the looming predator.
Taking in deep, raging breaths–
Expelled with anger,
Deep in the heart–
Of twisting darkness,
Shrouded by the rain.

Crashing reality,
Scraped with hate–
Scoured by the thunder’s bite–
Torn and fractured, under the burden–
Breathing still, raging further.

Deeper into night.
Only capped, fury reigning down.
Passing, constantly hungry,
Thirsting,
Never quenched,
But riding in the chaos,of chance.

Hunting on, towards the next–
Affixed, claim to the real.