The clouds drip their sorrows to the soaked world below. Today, they whisper in their somber voices, today. They chant it, until it's just noise. Until no one can hear it. Flashes spark in the sky, but none reach down, down to the suffering world below. It's all a game, the suffering people below don't realize. It's all the game of Life and Death, and if you play your cards right, the latter charges at you, arms flailing, screaming your name. Who am I kidding? Death welcomes all in this fashion, it just depends on who gets it first.