In the silence of the night, when the moon is high,
A dance begins, a fiery streak, across the sky.
The heavens roar, a symphony of light and sound,
As lightning weaves its path, where mysteries are found.

A fleeting moment, yet its beauty lingers on,
Illuminating darkness, before it’s gone.
Each bolt a brushstroke in the artist’s hand,
Painting dreams upon the midnight land.

The storm’s embrace, fierce and wild, yet grand,
A testament to nature’s mighty hand.
With every flash, a story to be told,
Of ancient powers, both fierce and bold.

We stand in awe, beneath the stormy veil,
Witnesses to the lightning’s timeless tale.
In its light, we find a fleeting grace,
A reminder of our place in this vast space.