To look above,
One should see the sky,
Dark with clouds and filled with mourning.
The lightning flashes...
Illuminating all for the
Barest of seconds;
Revealling the figure -
tall as the sunset -
Burning a hole in the dark.
Riding the earth, as may be expected,
His cloak a billowing,
His cries a wailing,
Reaching the heavens and
Calling the storm.
Dawn... does it come
With a bolt of silver fire?
Shattering the earth,
Crashing its way
Through the hearth and the home
And the way that it all once was.