This morning day is dressed in shades of gray,
long trailing shrouds;
dull trees stand motionless, no whispering leaves
in silenced threat.
What happened to my colours overnight?
Soon comes the rain,
with thunder and sharp lightning, nature cries
from dripping clouds
as vicious winds shake heavy crowns apart.
Lest we forget
who has the power over life and death,
the gods campaign.
From the Olympus they pull at our strings,
if we but listened, we'd hear angels' wings.

by: Leny Roovers