Forboding Skies Poem by Torry Young

Frost sets upon each blade
withering its core
acknowledging the fact that the unstirred season
has well arrived

The universe a serene white
dandruff falling from its polluted mentality
the unruffled world
shifting to a shade of worrisome gray
fogged over as a mirror following a sultry bath

I think nothing of it
never one to focus on my premonitions,
as the big hand shifts
I grow distressful

A black sunrise on the horizon
eliminates any assurance
of the promise of a tranquil day

When the receiver sounds,
I know no good could come,
eyelids flutter
allowing me to see no more

BLACKOUT

Clothed in sinister attire
Silenced consoling
Is all that is heard

The threatening skies
have an effect on me no more,
Fret I will not

For nothing greater can be taken