Every Storm has an End.
The screen door bangs against it’s frame,
You can hear a low rumble in the distance,
Then a cackle, crack!
Your room is illuminated, then falls back into darkness.
Sheets of rain, maybe even hail come pouring down.
The steady plonk, plonk, plonk of raindrops falling into overflowing pails echos about the room.
The old house shifts, the floors creak.
Everything is wet.
Another rumble can be heard, then an earsplitting clap when a branch falls onto the empty road.
You shiver in your sodden blankets, hoping the storm will end soon.
Every storm has an end,
You just have to live to see it.
You can make it,
You can live through whatever storm is happening in your life right now.
Every storm has an end.