It starts as a key note,

And amps up to a roaring crescendo,

Making an appearance to rear its ugly head.

It can burst into a damning existence with but a small happenence,

And bring into life a void so big and yet so inconsequiential,

It sometimes goes quietly unnoticed.

It can burst to life in the form of a spilled bucket of paint,

And have its climax several hours later.

It can be a form of unrivaled ecstacy, 

Or it could be nothing but total evil.

It is called,

The omen.