The sky has so much beauty to offer. Some days it's alight, like fires rolling beneath waves, and some days the sky is a calm blue with pockets of fluff floating ever so slowly, almost like fairy floss hovering above.

It throws the most beautiful purples you couldn't even think of, and the oranges that leap like rivers through the afternoon reds of the setting sun.

There's nights where it is the darkest shadow, freckled with stars that are light years away. And nights where the sky could almost draw werewolves out with it's luminescent coo; the reflection on the rock floating ever so calmly in the atmosphere around us.

There's nights where it's anger and outrage spew it's hatred in loud crashes, among frightening flashes, reminding it's onlookers that it can be a force to be reckoned with. Twisting the air, ripping apart the veins of the lives that live ignorantly below, throwing around the very nature it consistently supplies it's endless exhibits for.

It's infinite distance calling to be adored by those it dances and throws its colours for; the sky, just being. Showing us the simplicity in life, it's beauty in existing silently, yet ever so dire for all it encases. Reminding us of our insignificance and the realm of possibilities of the universe that exists outside of our own worlds.

Look up at the sky, now, tomorrow, whenever you can. Admire its unconditional presence, beyond the bubble of your own mind. Let it remind you that there is more to life than the chaos that surrounds you. There is always beauty after a storm.