The city streets awash with rain's wet flow
Runners flee from droplets heavy and flung
Icy wind sends forth a frozen arrow
And hark at lightning's voice as thunder sung
Soft light shines over from the flooded path
Suppressed, the world shall hide itself away
Within the soft and stormy aftermath
There dwells the death of summer's longing stay
Leaves greening still against the greying sky
Then whisked beyond to settle far below
No beast shall walk, nor little birds will fly
As fell winds sweep and sharper winds do blow
But cleansed the world will be as once anew
And shining sun will falter overhead
Where in the west, the twilight breaking through
Will cast a glow on cities once thought dead.
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