Un- named

The clouds begin to cry
They sky screams and spits lightning toward the ground
Destroying all in it's path
Corpses turn in their graves
Night of the dead
The wind blows heavy
The neary trees rattled and bend to it's will
Streets empty
Inside hollow as a log left to the termites
What remains?
The seemingly endless numbness
Relieved with her presence
Missing with her touch
A temporary solution worth seeing tomorrow