War in the Sky

Rain falls here the exact moment every single night. Eleven o’clock the clear sky becomes a dark place. The air becomes noticeably thicker and the immense heat becomes cool tropical air for a moment. The sky prepares for it’s show the same way every time, gray clouds and flashes of light. Then, when it decides it has captivated the attention of it’s audience, it begins to cry. At first the rain is refreshing, like the first fresh rain after a long dry spell. As the night progresses the rain intensifies making it hard to not pay attention to it. And it’s when you begin to ignore the sky that it becomes hostile and tears poor so hard you would think the sky was grieving. The thunder is the worst part, never have I ever felt the cracking of the sky run through the depths of my chest and rip out my own heart beat. The thunder goes on without compassion, ripping through the night like if its only job was to reak havoc on the peaceful slumbers of the earth. It’s as if humanity has committed a horrible crime and the sky wear scolding it, lashing out every five minutes striking fear into the very bodies that walk the grounds. The sky cries and yells, thundering in disappointment. When exactly the rain stops is a mystery because I always fall asleep before I can see the sky clear up. I always awake wondering if the war in the sky was a dream. 

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