The days of rain

The slithering motion of the long forlorn whistles,

grey skies singing the rumble of flamboyant charges.

The parade of green armies conquering the mud-flats,

transition from emeraldine to dark jade,

truly one of the greatest moments of creation.

Doubtful faces of newborn birds anxious about the future,

eyes of all seeing entities, judging this dread with grace,

Cold blunt arrows hitting down with the wrath of the sky,

streams down below only seems to gather turbulence from it.

Shades of grey and white fading by this dilapidation,

red sprites, invisible to the common eyes, smiling from the sky,

with them the king of electric aura thunders with applause

marvelling at the mercy of his mother from the sky.

These visuals that brought fire to the thoughts

Sparks the essence of purpose even to the

the child of night, a disgust of the destiny.