Water falls like icy tears
onto the dark and shadowed
earth. The angst of isolation
deepens within the night.
Screaming winds pound
through his ears as they
slowly erode his turbulent mind.
He watches as leaves fade into
sheets of glass, and the green
meadow turns a sickening
shade of orange.
Icy tears swirl like cyclonic
water spouts of destruction.
They blur his sight and pinch
his loving heart, turning it
into a cold, bitter and fearsome
place where nothing grows
and everything is malevolent.
Emily Clayton 