The trees where shaking and leaves were flying like bats but were getting hit by clusters of rain. Falling like sacks of dirt and punching the ground to keep everyone awake. Where's that like coming from like torch of a policeman has come to save us the lids of the eyes opened and BANG! . Thunder struck as powerful as that it could be.
He stood up slowly, feeling new pain shooting through his lower back as he reached full height, towering over the dead mass before him. H... ... middle of paper ... ...ng the last couple of days. They felt stolen from him and now he was left in the open, venerable to the monsters whose soul purpose was to frail his nerves. With each passing dream he learned to turn on the TV and watch the local news for any recent murder stories that would occasionally pop up. Some of the stories did correspond to what he had dreamt that night, from the two shots to the chest to the numbers on the arm.
The first gust of wind came with biting intensity. It shook the trees vigorously, making the branches dance. The sky was frighteningly dark, and it looked as though God was going to pour down his wrath at any moment. The sky burst setting down gigantic raindrops that pounded the roof and a roar of thunder that was angry and metallic shook me to my bones. Lightening flashed at every angle, like a fire works display gone wrong.
The poem does not seem to contain any obvious rhyme scheme and definitely no direct rhyme. Stanzas appear to be absent and some lines are very short ‘We wait, we listen.’, other lines are really long ‘Flicking the foam from the whitecaps straight upwards into the darkness.’ Enjambment occurs several times: ‘Then a crack of thunder, and the black rain runs over us, over / The flat-roofed houses, coming down in gusts, beating / The walls, the slatted windows, driving / …’, just as end-stopped lines ‘Water roars in the cistern.’ The punctuation in the poem encloses no order either, there is commas and semi-colons, a question mark ‘Where have the people gone?’, an exclamation mark ‘A time to go home!’ and a hyphen ‘Breathing heavily, hoping –’. There is also a strong contradiction in those two lines: ‘While the wind whines overhead, / Coming down from the mountain,’ the wind whines overhead but comes down. Roethke uses more of these oppositions in his poem such as ‘The flat boom on the beach of the towering sea-swell’, where flat and towering are fully in... ... middle of paper ... ...ature will win and yet the people will win; however, human will always lose. Because men can do whatever they want against nature, but once there is no nature left and we will die, so we need it.
Clash with the Hurricane- Personal Narrative The sky darkened from the blue light sky, it turned suddenly to a dark black gloomy sky hovering with a mist cloud. I walked back into the car, seemingly it was going to pour down. Heavily, the wind blew. I turned to shut the windows, but, as I looked closer out of the window, huge clouds started fusing together which then created a huge immense hurricane. I could not believe my eyes, a hurricane was coming our way.
The teeth in my mouth started chattering from the chills and fear. The going-on outside the house was overwhelming, numbing my senses and movement. “Oh Lord!” I said. “What have I done wrong?” Lightning unrelentingly flashed and thunder still roared after. This time, it was even more earsplitting.
He sputters out his sentences, pausing, and gasping. On a deeper level his brain function is also affected by the oxygen flow. This is clearly conveyed by his callous behavior and lack of thought to his future endeavors. His desire to avoid discipline is dimming as he realizes his time to receive punishment is approaching. Preceding his nerve-rattling last conversation with Porfiry, Raskolnikov seems to be lost and disoriented.
Suddenly the sky outside turned dark and cold. Dark clouds rolled in low in the streets like a thick fog. Lightning and thunder flashed and clasped all around them. Without a heartbeat all three ran outside and into the storm, not being sure if fate has brought another portal for them or a random thunderstorm rolled in. But none of them wanted to take the chance, whether they like this century or not all three felt that they needed to go back to their own time.
The Assassin - Short Story Orange headlights flashed past his face, fading like forgotten dreams. The night held stillness in its arms, which was thick enough to walk on. A slow creeping chill stalked through the air, threatening the onset of icy rain. When he looked up, the dark mysterious clouds told him that they promised to cry more tears tonight. A few more cars flew by.