Thunder troubles a darkening sky.
Wind rustles the sun dappled grass
as miles of meadows wander by.

Shadows dance on a distant hill
of monsters meeting in the air,
tired of merely standing still.

The sun it tries to stand and fight
piercing the monsters with beams of light.

The light if fades from a shattered sky.
The monsters merge with all their might
and the evening darkness begins to cry.

The very air it begins to howl
stirring every branch and blade.
It regards the monsters with a scowl.

The monsters throw their streaks of light
a raucous symphony of sound and sight.
A false dawn drives back the encroaching night.

But the wind is a force that won’t be denied.
It vows an oath to take back the sky
and drives the monsters upon the tide.

The moon and stars are all that remain
to comfort the tears of a war torn sky
and remind the monsters they fought in vain.