This storm is war

Lightning burns alert

the grumpy grey clouds

Jabbing with fists full

of orange forking spears

Raindrops echo

Gunfire on the night

Abandoned cars wait

And as my courtyard sleeps

Only the horizon reveals

Impending doom

for this city at fleeting peace

I see fire in the sky tonight

No beaming glow to

Light the black of the darkest shadows

looming and creeping closer

No pitches of brilliant steel

Slash through my heavens

Only fire on the horizon

This storm is war

Orange, red, and live round

yellow creeping creeping cross

the unsuspecting prairie path

So much brazen brilliance

should be accompanied by

all heaven’s resounding hymn and

devastating blows should ping pong

between the tunnels of my ears but no

A cease

All is at rest

Nature proves again

that it is not meant to be theorized

categorized, or compartmentalized into an understanding

One could say the same of war

Alike in lack of clarity and reason

Perhaps the very concept of war

is but an evolution

Of dealings dealt  by earth

And it’s atmosphere

Perhaps we act a mockery

A self-destructive humanity

based on the war of the world

But I don’t really know

I’m just here for the storm

After all