The Gods may be angry

Palm trees
just like wretched candles
blowing in the eye
storm clouds hasten movement
as the fronds cascade close by
tumultuous, tenacity terrified, tousled
they
are forced into the torrent
by the denseness of the spray
gesticulating wildly
to a bold gyrating beat
of Heaven and Earth
and all its seismic splendour
and deceit
the mist creates a curtain
a devilish intercede
the music and the measured might
doth forcefully now feed
tis clear, the sea is angry
a lull is felt
as I
watch the lightening bolts
descend and split apart the sky
Lucifer is clearly in his element
tonight
his drums are very audible
his lightening sparks so bright
quiver and deliver
a ferocious and fearess bite
daylight has been swallowed up
and the miasma melts into
a melting pot of light and dark
in what is, a bubbling stew
of cloud and atmospheric’s
eternally arranged
the music of the masters
feels now somewhat deranged