Sunflowers growing in a grayened darkness, storm brewing,
readying itself to wreck havoc on earth in moments of time.
Cuddling closer together, trying to keep warm, because
there is no sunlight to shine down upon them.
A deviated surface in the atmosphere is playing nature's
games of devilish delight, harassing all aspects of each
flower, tree and bit of growth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem