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Rain

The future is bleak.

The rain
which beats
upon the glass
points the
way
to poison
gas.

The sun
which
warms
the stagnant pool
goes down at
dusk
and leaves it
cool.

The clouds
mushrooming
overhead
tell us there’s
much more to
dread.

The lightning stroke
which tears the
sky
carries death
to low and
high.

Good and evil,
love and hate,
they’re all waiting
at the gate.
Betrayal, fear,
pain, and death
can be felt
in every breath.

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