One languid summer afternoon
I roamed away from home on foot.
And as I walked upon the road,
From nowhere came a thunderstorm.
And nameless fear came over me.
For reasons I may never know.
I thought the storm had come for me.
Transgression's price had now fell due .
While sweeping from the west, the clouds
Seemed like the scroll of Judgement Day.
The names of those who miss the mark,
With angry God in close pursuit.
Titanic thunder, noise of hell,
A roar like armies on the move.
The sound of Gettysburg and Kursk
On their respective days of death.
The lightning shooting from the mists
Reminded me of prophets old
Condemning ancient towns for sins
And calling down angelic fire.
A smell of ozone on the wind
Bore proof of what was soon to come.
An acrid, choking, smoking smell
That seemed to come from up above.
The bitter rain upon my tongue
Was dread made real to me, it seemed.
The very taste of nature's wrath
Distilled in drops of primal fear.
And why a storm would scare me so
I dare not even try to say.
But to my house I turned and ran
Like darkness runs from morning light.
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