The Winds of Turmoil
Lazy skies of no spirit or stirring
no sound, no voices, no wind, no whirring,
like dancing with no drums to move along
a lullaby with no dynamics in the tired song
an empty space with nothing to fill it with
an ancient scroll revealing nothing but a myth
winds in the calm of the listless skies
waiting for the finale of the sleepy lullabies
to hear the whirring of the skyborn fans
the dancing clouds above the quiet lands
the swaying barley in the late summer fields
the contentious sky warriors with their battle shields
the assembling black clouds rolling into each other
battle ready voices shouting one after another
lightning bolts parting the compacted clouds
burning a hole from the fire in their mouths
splitting the proud trees that once were grand
from the fire and water over all the land
the story of the tranquil winds that became restless
born of an angel that became possessed
the story of too many earthly inhabitants
that live to release their addiction to violence
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