Armageddon 555

 
 
 
 
 
Gathering clouds
debate the contours
of a marvelous storm
building
electrically
ionically
magnetically
enigmatically.
Rumble.
Deep, deep
chthonic
rhythms.
Drum, drum, drumming.
Hypnosis. Ozone wind
whirls
opens portals, windows
wormholes.
Cyclonic chaos rains,
rages, sobbing, shrieking.
Ubiquitous
whirling  miasma.
Stink, blinding,
rips through,
whipping into submission,
into ironic splendor,
random bits, splinters, slivers
of skin, sprinklings of
vital fluids.
Wisdom wrung clean
then flung away,
orgiastic rending
lost in a storm
of biblical proportions.
.
.
.

 

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