Something Ancient

In the dead of night, July’s fiery heat is bested; for tonight is joined by swells of roiling storm. Far off the coming squalls push on the rested- and thunder’s rumble ancient in the core

For eons has the lightning arced a hazard, And Zeus’s wicked crackle on the breeze. A constant sharp reminder of his stature- An eternal god, chasing always through man’s dreams.

Just as Luna’s constant company follows, There’s dire primal meaning to the howls. And though the deep blue hue of clear skies beckon, Man’s fate is hidden riding on the squalls.

And though strained might to Terra’s whims defy. Both grave and tomb, forever paths entwined.