We, the Storm

The calm stoicism of a star-bereft, post meridiem sky, blanketed the Earth with a holistic and aural ambience, As lightning began it's opening act for a coming storm, The four winds seemed unsure as their antithetical clash began, While cool drops of exiled rain fell in reprimand, Covering the ground in a reflective, demisable span, "Soon," they say will be the fall of man, As was foretold in a book; as was planned, In a world of open eyes that can't see, With closed mouths no one can feed, Though in silence so few are listening, Content; they agree to disagree, We are the storm; the storm are we.