Something in the air changes
and people don't believe it 'til
they've felt it for themselves.
The pressure shifts and the
wind always dies down as the
proverbial calm before the storm
comes. Silence in a bottle, no
lightning to be seen.
You'd think the lightning would
be the hardest bit to describe
flashing harshly against the sky.
Instead, behind the eyes of
someone, it grows and grows
that wretched silence. Until it
bursts forth and blows through
the walls and the ceiling.
But yet that silence, that you can
see and feel flitting over their face
is still the hardest part to convey.
