The clouds of Melancholia haunt the land.
Tears fell from Heaven, a mosaic pattern of drops.
With each drip, sorrow, grief and guilt manifested for a brief time
Upon the sunken world. The downtrodden walked the streets.
Innumerable drops knocked at the windows,
trying to get at the hearth within.
Wind carries these drops away by random or by fate,
Into the hardened faces of humanity,
As if seeking warmth, hidden away
Beneath layers of clothing and skin.
The skies howled and sobbed,
blasting the mountains of steel and glass
And everything within its sight.
Spasms of pain flew through the air,
Followed shortly by groans, explosions of rage and indignation,
Bursting through the atmosphere at mach one.
As time passes, when its energies became expended
the rain slowed to a trickle,
Seeping into the unforgiving earth.
A new dawn awaits.
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