Psychic Howl

The night is wild, and the winds are howling through the trees. The slightly metallic tang of electricity reaches me on the winds that curl around my form, and in the distance the dark skies are briefly illuminated with flashes of lightning. I can scarcely sit still in anticipation of the coming storm. I will not sleep. I cannot. I do not know how much longer I can stand as a free man and watch such storms unfold before my mortal eyes. My time is limited. But with the remaining time I have left, I will spend every waking hour marveling at the beauty inherent in the creations of Nature. When the storm descends, I will fling open every door and window to welcome it, and I will not hold back the joy that I feel as the winds rush towards me. My soul howls along with the storm, even though my physical self is still and silent. Stormy days are everything I could ever want. Cold, dark, wet. *bounces excitedly* I can't wait for it to storm! It is so wonderfully cleansing and empowering! I used to go up to the highest floor in my primary school and watch quietly as the storm Gods sang their ancient songs to the world. *wistful* The times of innocence...I think I'll take a long stroll along the darkened gardens and listen to the winds.