Heartbeat

The heart is the storm, and it's beat is thunder.

Thunder.

The ominous pounding of thunder within my own chest.  The pain of sheer, stubborn willpower forcing my heart to beat.

The heart will not stop.

It refuses.

It is as lightning -- the declaration of the sky that it will not be commanded.

Despite all odds, it continues.

We are simple people to believe it will simply stop because we cannot see why it should continue.  Every heart knows more than our minds will ever learn. 

We are whispers, and they are thunder.

A whisper may end when we finish speaking, but thunder will roll until it finds it's own reasons to end.

We are not the ones to end the thunder.

Author's Note

Um yeah, another thing I wrote early in the morning... as in, 2 Am.
Not sure what to expect when I read it in the morning...

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