What say you 

When you feel so alone
That even sorrow walks away
And you’re left to ache in hollow bone
Soul heavier than clay

Turn your face toward the rain
See each drop that falls
Insistent on its arcing path
In Silence through it all

The Loudness comes when raindrops die
Fall, a final splatter, cry
The Loudness crawls into your flesh
A barrage as loud as inner death

The demons march as heavily
On iron roofs as on your feet
Their silver tongues lash every light
And make the day-sky dreary night.

Wait beyond the first descent
The liquid screams as grasses dent.
Pay first — your attentions to the clouds —
Before the inner roaring debt.

Thunderstorms with a chance of annihilation

The storms are more frequent now.
They come with knives in their teeth
lashing the ground with prophecy;
a warning.

Thunder plays out like the men and their dead diplomacy
shouting, screaming in foreign voices
of blue, white, red blood.

The rain bites the ground and grows in hunger
gnawing at the sun, it comes.
The eagles do not fly here any longer.

The whisper grows as the clouds approach
a shadowy storm is brewing.
We burn the maps, we ignore the past
Surely the winds mean nothing.

They’ve lost their heads, children are dead
Is this man we chose apathetic?
Sibilance is stirring in the water
they are coming to make us bleed.

“Infidels, all infidels!
We will march them into the sea.”