Wind howls warning on the cusp of a ****** storm
Whispers of deep rumblings pass through the atmosphere like a shadowy phantom
Gnarled thoughts plague the conscience of the guilty
The stormy waves crash into a charcoal cliff, spraying silver foam of rebirth
A woman utters confessions to the unresponsive moon
Depthless eyes of the hunter track its innocent prey
A small child sings of a world far away
Someone wakes up screaming, their reality breaking like a sledgehammer through a windshield
Clothes torn on the floor, bodies entwining, trying to purge themselves of the monsters inside their souls
Passion blazes a wildfire, burning everything in its wake until it is snuffed
The storm comes, a roaring lion, attacking with vicious claws and hungry jaws
Death waits, arms open, to collect souls into its shrouded cloak
Temptations fly overhead like birds, settling in the nests that the foolish build for them
The storm ceases, the only sign the wreckage people drown in
But then the silent wind once again howls her warning, to those who bother to listen