Music

Grey clouds forming on the horizon
Preparing to sing in unison
Just swaying and waiting
For the music of thunder and lightning

As the first note starts
Intense rhythm strikes like darts
Little droplets of water pours
Wetting dry land more and more

The trees dance with the wind
Its branches struggling
Holding on to its firm hold
Trying its best not to let go

But how much more can it take?
The orchestra's overflowing with hate
The wind whistles with higher pitch
The rain sounds like hundreds of marching feet

After a while, bright light appears
Reflecting light on the bent trees
Water dripping one by one
Music is played by the branches on the ground