The turmoil can be seen from
afar.
With eyes like a hurricane
desperately searching,
out of control.
They smother happiness
they feed off of fear.
A reflection of the
soul
shows the true nature within.
But the storm will soon end
and all that is left is
darkness
destruction
fear.
Hope seems to have
abandoned all.
A black veil smothers everything.
The heat that fueled this anger is
gone.
It seems to mock now.
Light rain will continue to fall
from those eyes.
As the storm dissipates
down they will tumble,
and take with them that hope.
Any chance of survival
will crash to the ground,
with a deafening
splat.
The world will shake
having known such pain,
but no force can stop it.
No force will win. In the
end
all seems lost,
and all will soon die.
No rainbow shows up,
And silver linings are a lie.
No. This world must gain help from
above.
The Creator himself must
remake the land.
Restore his image.
Restore his light.
Then in one triumphant
sigh
He will pick it back up
and hold it in the palm of his
hand.