Part 1

The light brown
Was the color of the ground
In waited
Not sated,
for the echo of the sound,
of thunder
the wonder
of flashes across dark sky.

Circles fall,
Droplets all,
It’s For the dead plants they cry,
Now dark brown;

Rain turns to hail and now pounds.

Part 2

To the clay
Revealed by the ice pounding
Battered down
Hard harsh sound,
Strikes the dry hard rebounding;

Summer’s day.

Hail now rain
Washing over what was dust,
Old canvas,
Washing fast,
Tugs on once metal now rust;

Rush to drain,

Far off thunder is sounding.

Part 3

Drizzle down,
Slacking to just a light mist,
Torrent slack
As drains back,
Sounds of the rain is a hiss.

Worn away
The red clay
Uncovers the resting of dead,
Exposed chest
Disturbs rest,
Washing rains reveals his head,

From the ground,
Rising from his resting bed.

Part 4

No rainbow,
The drizzle ends in darkness,
Clouds swarming
Dark warning,
Visionless night that’s moonless.

Revealed death,
Lacking breath,
Rises from the mud and clay,
In that night
Evil’s blight
Baptized into darkness’ play.

A shadow,

Undead with living to slay.

Part 5

Red clay clings in the shambling,
Growling sounds,
Dead mindless in it’s rambling,
Lost a shallow grave washed out
From the ground.

Finding dark comfort about,
Lifeless he’ll search for living,
In darkness,
Light days these longest shunning,
Running in his pains so real.

In darkness,
Must find beating life to steal
To darkness.

Part 6

In shadows of a dark night
The storm dies,
Scattering comes morning light
Over the mists of the bay,
The storm dies
In hills at the end of day,

The living awaken slow,
Unaware;
No warnings or way to know

The pitiful poor in alleys
Unaware,
Prepare to be the tallies.

The storm dies.

Part 7

Stiff rotting fingers of mud
Are searching
For the warm pulsing of blood,
To grapple the hold of life from
While searching
breaking the beat of life’s drum
in silent sighs of last pain.

From living,
Red life force runs down the drain
Leaving just shell and spirit
From living
He takes a soul to eat it;

Still searching,
Darkness comes he’ll feed again.

Part 8

The dry bright summer days
In hiding,
Under trash in alleyways,
Too long the time of the sun,
In hiding,
Slim shadows till day is done.

Darkness comes like a creeping friend,
Meander,
Aimless driven for life’s end,
Slowly grasping the weak one
Meander
Slaying till returning sun.

Then hiding.

Part 9

Gathering Clouds blot the sun,
Storm rising,
Darkness before day is done
So he rises to find prey,
Storm rising,
Hunting in swirling winds play.

Bolts jumping from cloud to cloud
Dark echo,
Far off thunder not yet loud
Rumbling in open windows
Dark echo,
Capturing all the shadows.

Storm rising.

Part 10

Torrential downpours then fall,
Memories,
Found in sound of thunders call
Rattling souls like window panes
Memories,
Drenching his bulk once again.

Thoughts of his own death returns,
Water reigns,
Vengeance steaming inside burns,
Flash floods grasp and wash away
Water reigns,
The storm rages into day.

Memories

Part 11

Washed away,
Carried on waters blind rage,
Comes the day.

Memories
Time of life on livings page,
Used to be.

From the mud rises slowly
The old him,
Mind not of his death’s lowly,
But the last confusion time
The old him
Finally he feels his own mind.

And sees his killer again;

Shuffling in the dim lighting,
They both see,
One a fright one is fighting
Emotions he can’t believe
They both see,
Flash backs to a summer’s eve.

Frozen with fear he just stands
Soul shaken,
As the killer feels the hands
As they tighten squeezing breath,
Soul taken,
Now the killed has returned DEATH.

Part 12

The tide of feeling ended
Flowed away,
Vengeance had now been tended,
The taken had now been took,
Flowed away
Departing without a look
Backwards to the crumpled form;
Now ended,
Just like the night’s thunderstorm.

That which held him on the earth
Now ended,
Is gone and now without worth;

He crumples.