Surviving the Black

Eyes flick to the lemon sky as it grows angry.
Purple earth packed beneath plodded feet beings to tremble.
A wagon of fruit overturns, yellow blood staining the road brown.
Strangers' hands clasp as the rain comes over the hills.

Walls of orange waves approach, foam violently caressing barred windows.
The blue sand drinks in the water as the waves swallow everything
but still, when the sea is dry, the world dead, the sand still thirsts.
Frightened eyes meet for the first time, sharing an uncertain future.

The clouds grow to a vicious green, the green of a storm.
red grasses hissing in the rising wind.
Lightning cracks the mountains ahead, pulling their shoulders down.
Arms cling to their embrace, afraid to be alone this far from home.

A thousand different people, in a thousand different worlds
that end in a thousand different ways.
And no matter who you were or what you are,
Hands clasp, for how else can we survive the black?