T. Russell Bostic
Sparkle touch the water. . . then fade.
A shadowed figure distracts my attention.
She has left from all but my memory.
I look again, she is gone.
Sparkles touch the water. . . then fade.
Clouds fill the skies.
Darkness fills the day, as a cold
breeze rushes across my skin.
Thunder cracks, lightning leads the way.
Flashes of power appear, having driven away the sun.
A shivering rain touches down upon me,
throwing the surface of the lake into mad confusion.
I look to it's surface, I am lost in it's storm.
Hell or god has taken over this ...