When the sky darkens,
And the birds take to their nests.
When the flashes shout,
And the heavens take a test.
When clouds gather
to mourn as a whole,
And they'll gather and gather
And continue to grow.
People will run,
In fear and terror,
From this threatening,
Endangering, feat of horror.
The sky cries;
The lightning fries!
The thunder begin their chant.
The moon runs,
And where is the sun?
Have the stars gone for a hunt?
Is there peace?
Is there release?
Will the madness ever cease?
From seconds to minutes to hours,
Will the skies ever dry?
Hear the people in irritation;
Hear the sadness and the sigh.
Where is the shelter,
From this God-forsaken storm?
Is there relief,
From this sky-hung massless form?
Is there peace?
Is there release?
Will the madness ever cease?
Wait. There is peace!
In this massless form.
It is here,
In the eye of the storm!
The winds have weaken,
The thunder softens,
And the lightning stops for once.
Can you believe,
There is relief
For children - daughters and sons?
Shelter is found in the midst of turmoil.
Peace is reborn!
Nothing moves, not grain nor soil.
Relief like the morning's dawn.
-End
10/04/09 (I just didn't post it)
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