I see it,
I feel it,
I wish it were a nightmare,
But it is manifest,
I spy it on the horizon,
Across waters not yet disturbed,
A miserable stormfront,
Foreboding in the heavy air,

This storm alludes to future pain,
Bolts like thrown tableware,
Humid air like the tension between foes,
Thunder like the lashes of expletives,
Clouds and lights like eidolic billboards,
Lamentation in arcing lights,
It waits in the distance,
A reminder that the great misery beckons.


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