The storm
Children playing down the storm,
and a grey voice emerges from the clouds.
My hands shake many droplets
as separating my head with them.
One boy took a girl near the mountain.
He kissed her, he touched her.
Neither sadness nor suffering
are a scream of death at this moment.
Both are young lovers beneath the storm.
Two little lovers facing the fury
of a cloudy fate... down... down...
on this Earth.
* * *
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