I see the dark clouds ahead.
Rolling in with the wind.
Grumbling.
Flashing with heat and electricity.
Moving in, advancing slowly.
It will soon be here.
It will soon engulf these buildings.
Tears rolling down the windows of skyscrapers.
And in the eyes of the observer.
Fires will light the sky.
Thunderous cracks will snap windows shut.
And shelters will have no vacancy for the unfamiliar.
The rain will beat a rhythm of a thousand drums.
Flooding the streets, washing the stains.
First, rivers of red.
Then gold and green.
And when all the colours have bled,
When observers become soaked,
Umbrellas cast to the side,
Jackets rendered futile -
In that moment,
There will be silence.
Rolling in with the wind.
Grumbling.
Flashing with heat and electricity.
Moving in, advancing slowly.
It will soon be here.
It will soon engulf these buildings.
Tears rolling down the windows of skyscrapers.
And in the eyes of the observer.
Fires will light the sky.
Thunderous cracks will snap windows shut.
And shelters will have no vacancy for the unfamiliar.
The rain will beat a rhythm of a thousand drums.
Flooding the streets, washing the stains.
First, rivers of red.
Then gold and green.
And when all the colours have bled,
When observers become soaked,
Umbrellas cast to the side,
Jackets rendered futile -
In that moment,
There will be silence.