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The blackened sky descends
Roiling shades of blue, red and green.
Twisting in their tormented agony
The drums roll louder.
The clouds roll up, billowing over one another,
Dwarfing everything.
Palpable tension fills the air,
And the first droplets fall,
Tapping on the dry earth
Harbingers of doom.
The drums roll louder still
Of death, and destruction.
Suddenly, the skies open
And the trickle becomes a torrent
The fury of the heavens unleashed
The tempest building to its peak
Lashes at anything and everything
The pressure is unrelenting
The world waits, tense.
Meanwhile, the unholy trinity
Brings its power to bear
Not content with its pummelling of the ground
It releases its final stroke
Pure, brilliant white light
Lances down,
Rending the very air, as it streaks earthwards.
Hitting home,
Bone-breaking impact, its immense heat
Fusing the earth into rock, destroying titanic trees
Then comes the sound, a detonation
The deafening war drums,
And the gut wrenching force
Of Thor's mighty hammer stroke.
Hours later, the storm moves on
Leaving in its path, a blasted land
Barren ground,
Lifeless, twisted trees,
Their blackened, shattered limbs grasping at nothing
Silent screams of torture.
Total annihilation.
For now, the tempest sleeps
Uneasy dreams.
© Robert Taylor 2007
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