Nocturnal Cannonade

Blue rifts tear ashen greys asunder.
A pregnant pause…

Then come the aching cries of the gods,
Oppressive, ominous, omnipresent overture
Heralding the rain which fails to fall

And a temporary tranquillity descends
Until once more the surface cracks,
Blue white lattice criss-crossing the black

The pause now diminished,
The rumbles now louder,
reaching a deafening crescendo,

Another flash, another,
White fire tearing the firmament to pieces
As Marduk did Tiamat…

And the silence before the sound stretches out
Still oppressive, but diminished now.
Ishkur moves on, leaving the night to heal.

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