The Coming Storm
By Lunaria •
The Coming Storm
A weird shade of green is the sky above
Trees are bowing to the strong cold gust
Which is giving objects wings as a dove
So they lift off the earth like dust
A fierce storm is brewing and moving fast
Yet I move not to take cover
For I know the die is cast
And there is mystery to discover
What know ye of the prophecies of old
Not many I guarantee ye
If ye did ye would not be so brassy and bold
But praying for one last plea
Think ye can stop the storm that comes?
Nay, but some will try
Listen to the sounding drums
And pray that ye don't die
For the time is now, as you've been told
But you listen not, even today
They are true , the prophecies of old
You cannot have it your way
Now I must leave you to your fate
For I will warn no more
This storm that comes will not abate
There is destruction at your door
Goodbye, farewell, I'll see you no more
This is where the timelines divide
Destruction takes the form of war
And on a great ship is where I'll reside.
June 26, 2005
copyright © Lila May Guptill (AKA) Lunaria
All my poetry, and other writings are all legally ©Copyrighted before posting.
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