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Death is a thunderstorm.
Untimely and unwanted by all connected to it.
Starting with a calm,
Mother Nature has gone into shock,
At the reality of her newest creation.
Soon after, the winds of change,
Strong winds they are,
Arise from all directions,
Crashing and destructing,
Furious and uncontrolled.
Following immediately,
The first full blast of truth,
As it comes like a brick wall,
Slamming into anything in it’s path,
Unaware of the full impact of itself.
Then the center calm,
the eye of the storm.
Everything is pseudo-relaxed
As it braces for the next fury,
Ready to explode.
The second blast arrives,
As crazy as the first,
The world crys out to God for the second time.
Scared and frustrated,
Civilization reverts to instinct.
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