Speak as lightning, words of thunder:
So all your talk for me is spoken rain.
The cold front breaks, the mountains under
Roll on sound, and storms ignite from pain.
Stoke the embers of the vault
And curse the sky to swelter overcast:
I know your weather forms, assault
Of ruinous power; so render us aghast,
The vast calamity to reign
On the valleys of our past.
We’ve all had arguments like this: it starts with small changes; the pressure heightens, there’s a silence – not a calm, but a silence – as the tension builds to break. Then comes the thunder.