second flooding of
Megiddo
I've got rain.
No words.
No fancy maledictions.
Pounding drips against
my inner scream.
Out in the valley,
obscured by smoky haze,
gathering armies.
Bright polished armor.
Weaponry clean
beauteously shines,
stars behind dark
clouds.
No roots to cling to.
Flood water rises,
drowns fire, air, ability
to
speak of sorrow.
Ashes
fall unevenly
through seeping valley.
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