The heart turns black, as the winds in rage began to roar,
the skies darkens and thickens, calls upon his name no more,
long gazes in his soulless eyes, upon hopes that will never soar,
rain cages him in, soaked roads reflect a face he began to abhor,
upon that rocking chair he stays, white flags raised to end the war,
for the universe had been generous with signs he could not ignore.
