Sardonic is the day against the trees, how it looks to cast judgement upon the ground

What vitirol it holds for the human realm, how it seethes with poison on the soil

The day is doomed with this aura, never will it become more than just a somber storm

For the day has turned a vengful shade of red, it has shown its teeth to the sun, it has scraped its claws against the moon

Out the window the signs are clear, that the tides will not react to this haze, they will restrict and cower

So I look at the sky, and know the day is not at hand, I am alone in souless elements, only my will to call on in trials