The Storm

A flash of lightening
A drum roll of thunder
The howling of winds
A hidden conductor

The crashing of waves
Upon shaking sands
Controlling the rage
With his trembling hands

The blood of the sun
Rests on his shoulders
Staining them red as
They start to smoulder

A dark crescendo
To drama in store
Warns you that you are
Stood at death's door

Soon to diminish
The noise starts to die
The flickering halts
And stills the pale sky

His hands at his sides
His baton cast away
Deafening silence
No move set astray

Author's Note

This is the first poem that I have published here, so I would like to know how to improve it. Thank you :)

Reviews

[Richard Guimond]

My views are that when a poem is release like a bird you can>'t really hope to catch it back and improve on it the only way is to write another poem better then the first one. This is not a dogma cast in bronze but a guide line I gave my self. As an archer I think only the first arrow count

your poem is great I felt the stom that is the most important! Again .... in my viewpoint