In The End

Like the subtle grey sky before it rains,
The eerie whisper of the wind urging you to run,
And the endless shade of death cloaking you in its desperate grasp. It all must come to an end.

The weather had been noticeably more dispiriting the past few days. The heavy promise of rain tickled my nose in warning and the delicate lull of the gentle wind comforted my darkened spirit.
I never could of anticipated that when the sky screamed in anger and pain, tears falling from its face in a desperate attempt to relieve the weight it held. That the agony it possessed would transfer its way to myself and the others who lost everything in a single storm.

This is a story of the end.