Imprimir Angry Skies by Mark The Phenomenon

God Is Angry
The sky turns dark, a rumble low,
Like thunder growling, soft and slow.
The wind whips up, an angry gust,
Across the fields, a swirl of dust.

The rain comes down in sheets so gray,
Washing the colors all away.
The earth drinks deep, but still it cries,
Beneath the stormy, angry skies.

But even in the darkest hour,
A tiny seed begins to flower.
A rainbow arches, light appears,
A promise whispered, drying tears.
The sky turns dark, a rumbling sound,
The earth below begins to pound.
The wind howls, a furious cry,
As rain falls from an angry sky.

The trees all bend, the rivers swell,
A story that the heavens tell.
A warning sign, a whispered plea,
\"Remember Me, remember Me.\"

The thunder cracks, a fiery show,
A chance to learn, a chance to grow.
To find the peace we left behind,
And leave the hurt and hate defined.