Poetry is like weather

Poetry is like weather.

The clouds represent confusion,
Is like peering through a humid cloud of misty haze.

When it rains, bullets of water fall from the heavens,
Like the words when the fire at your eyes.

When it’s arid, and uncontrollably hot from the sun,
It is there, that you will find that optimism lies within all the energy of heat in the atmosphere.

Tornados, volcanos,
Earthquakes, and forest fires.

The overpowering energy of Lighting,
And the shattering crackles of thunder.

It is in those terrifying of horror, when poetry strikes at its most ungodly form,
But yet by God himself, we see that poetry is not a pure haze of confusion,
Nor is it that the weather shall show results of pure deception.