I got to see all of the Chaos and the power and the 
rage...I could feel the deep bass of the thunder as it 
shook the building I was in.  The wind causing every-
thing in it's path to bend and do as it said.

   I saw the patterns that were made on the ground 
when the rain hit.  I saw the tiny waves that were made
by the wind.  Tiny waves on an endless black ocean, 
rushing outwards in every direction.

  I saw the blackened sky lighted as though it were noon
on a sunny day.  The intricate tracings of the light weave as
a man doodling on a chalkboard.  Then the light became 
children in a game of tag. Chasing eachother all over a 
large black canvas.

   And then it is over.  Leaving nothing behind but the 
damage to the earth and it's inhabitants.  Yet even in this,
there is beauty.  The patterns left when the wind leaves its
artist's stokes on the canvas.

   It seems to me that the storms never leave now.  The rage
and chaos they show so brilliantly are forever contained in
my mind.  It is a constant battle within. There will never be
a winner, but the storms still rage on.

                                IN ME.