The Oncoming Storm

This was translated from French with a few tweaks, and although I've checked it over several times, I apologize for any mistakes. Please comment!

Pallid sky,

Clouds thundering overhead

As the stars dissolve into chaos,

Controlled only by the

Waning light of the moon.

Spears are flung, lightning

Streaking down in a flash

Of jagged power, a display

That is startlingly real.

Fear is abundant in this

Realm of higher beings than themselves,

And unlimited illuminance glows from

The dark sky, the origin cursive written in

The withering Heavens, crumbling stone

Barricades of our bravery, everlasting

Pride, for we can never reverse the rain

Nor the tide. But we can hold onto our courage,

Kiss the sun good morning, and

Clutch to sparkling clear skies.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed