When clouds wage war

Thunder announced the arrival of an army of clouds.

Gathering all its might,

it descended to wage a war.

It showered rain pellets.

Like a silver sword, lightning flashed across the sky as if it was swung by the

God of light.

Fierce winds swept through every corner

against which trees,

as if possessed by multiple spirits, unleashed a wild macabre dance.

Some lost their branches, as if a warrior had lost one of his hands in the fighting.

Weak ones were rooted out,

their lives snuffed out.

Crows were flung across the sky.

The rain pellets drenched every inch,

flooding the land and

leaving no place warm and dry.

After pouring down, the clouds have now disappeared.

No more howling of winds,

screaming of trees, and drowning of land.

It was all reduced to the sound of a few droplets hitting the ground.

Winged creatures began to take flight.

Motionless, trees stood in utter shock.

There was no breeze to tincture their wound.

But the new sky,

shining brightly with hope,

shall see to the reparations.

And the Sun shall heal all the

past wounds.

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