The storm is coming, prose and poetry.

The wind is like a group of wild dogs

barking and biting everywhere

angrily facing me

wishing to tear me to pieces

throwing me into the air

Thunder drums

rolling over the head

far or near

scaring away the traffic

scaring Xiaoming next door

scared silly. The halberd pierced the sky

the heavy rain poured down like a note

knocking at my window

knocking at my heart

knocking at my melancholy dream

The storm came

Like a group of thugs who were caught off guard

occupying the main control of the city instantly

I had to obediently

close the window. Turn off the lights

to avoid the danger of this surprise attack

The storm is coming

Showing off the city's arrogance

Fading the heat of the night

Slowing down the hasty pace of pedestrians

Washing my impetuous heart

The storm is coming

Giving me a deep night

Giving me a quiet

. The storm came

like a roll

flat and neat

heartily

drunk the whole world

took off all my precautions against life

shuffled everything

happily.