Black snow

The heat will blaze and feel like hell.
A product of some evil spell.
That clings to you like sticky oil.
And all life seems such gruel and toil.
But then the rains will quickly come.
A gentle tapping. A blissful hum.
And wash away that oily mess.
Of anguish and the painful stress.
You soak your soul in calming pools.
Which cleanse the mind like shiny jewels.
But before long, the flood waters rise.
And you’ll see only death in drowning eyes.
For floods wash away the most unfaithful.
And rid the world, quite harsh and wasteful.
And as you sit in quiet despair.
You feel an ember, alight on air.
The end at hand, no ice age coming.
Little demons with their evil drumming.
For though above, it falls as if from below.
The hurried end, in sad black snow.
Which chokes the world and covers discretely.
Your soul and bones for time completely.

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