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The Great Flood
The air grew humid
as the sun took its leave.
The breeze picked up,
and slowly, with a low crack
the sky began to cry.
The fit lasted for days.
With each passing hour
the sobs grew louder.
The winds wailed
with abandon.
Dirt drowned in the sorrow
of the distressed downpour.
Roads rendered unnavigable
in the torrential tears
became the resting places
of past lives.
From rooftops, muted shouts
of those left with nothing
rang through the saturated air.
And the Heavens refused to listen.
As the final plot of land
was kissed with the sky’s
somber lips,
the mournful clouds
parted.
Reflected in the flood,
The moon looked on.
A silent companion,
watching as the water
began to take
its leave.