Hearing nothing but my breath
I wander this war torn city alone.
A cool moist breeze hits me from behind
Signaling the start of a summer thunderstorm.

The smell of the unfallen rain is heavy
As I find my way to an old abandoned park.
The brush consumes an old rusted swing set
I rest at an old bamboo picnic table.

All around me is destruction and rubble
On my left, lightning surrounds black clouds
Quickly moving in to consume the city
The perfect euphemism for this country’s inevitable fate

As the rain begins to fall, the sun dips below the tree line
Casting a shadow on an old apartment building.
Across from it, the swaying palm trees glow orange
A luminous contrast to the storm above them

To my right, a couple is sitting on their balcony
Swallowing the chaos, welcoming the rain
Surrounded by rubble, in this infamous country
They find peace in being together