I cried for hours on the night it rained.

The colors of despondence lit the sky

with red and orange and fury painted black

brought forth from vengeance lost along the way.

The wrath of angry passion swirled and hissed

and fell upon the meadow, burning gold

and precious gemstones into drops of dew.

The mountains shook and crumbled into dust,

and fell into the oceans, drying up

the waters from which life had once been stirred.

The laughter shrieked and scorched the Earth with pain,

and terror plucked the trees up by their roots

and then the birds had lost their place to land

to hide themselves from that which was to come

and flew forever into Death alone.

I cried for hours on the night it rained,

when colors so romantic crossed the sky

and hearts and flowers drawn by lovers’ vows

were shredded into nothing but a stain

that lost remembrance of another time.

I cried for hours on the night it reigned,

when horns and trumpets sang of our defeat

and joyous shouts of triumph filled the air

with poisoned wind and solitude complete.