Red, the raven flies
in the northern skies.
Black clouds growl on the horizon,
while the faded orange sun rises in the east,
the shimmering sea is but a sodden patch.
On a bone hill, rests a broken tree.
His barren branches are still
and his soul empty
The deserted city bemoans its fate,
wishing for the days of diamond towers and fleeting laughter.
Crying for its fallen structures and cracked pavement.
In a far away place,
a new Sun is born
and dances on a new Sea
in a new Home
with laughing Clouds.