Monday 16 March 2015

Cyclone

Rain scratched the street with her merciless nails
Wind pierced hearts with ear-splitting wails

The two tangoed in the austere sky 
It is their choice who lives and who dies

The arch of a rainbow, a thankful dry spell
Would be something worth rewarding quite well

But as the eye roves far from sight 
It is clear the duo have surpassed all hope with a galling bite 




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