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The Symphony of the Storm MAG
While a terror roars on through the night,
Hurling buckets of water and bright
yellow light,
And smashing through trees with its
merciless claws,
As if engaged in some heavenly fight,
The world looks on in awe.
Meanwhile the girl, appassionato, in jeans,
Forward and into the piano leans,
Oblivious to the Godzilla above,
Her soul being poured right into the keys,
As a waterfall liquefying love.
Mezzo piano, fortissimo, her crescendos soar,
As the great being continues to roar,
Hours and hours without cease,
Like waves building up before hitting
the shore,
Both girl and monster can only increase.
Or so it seems, until, at last,
Fin brings an end to the frenzied blast.
Exhausted, the girl arises from her place,
Looks through the window at earth so vast,
Which benevolent mist now shrouds
with grace.
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