Floods
Raindrops, birches fly
Timbers sleek, shadows fade
The grave still await it’s inhabitants
Days are milky of beautiful souls
Turns to turns, like floods
With indelible mark of memories
Like a sunny rain
Thus predict the Cub’s birth
We’re ignorant of nature ways
Making belated plans to end in grave
Turns to turns, like a wind
A visitor that spreads tearful fumes
Life cease and continue birthing
Like ants we roam the earth
As dirt to await the great flood
Piercing either ways
Turns to turns as hurricane
With a bloated mouth and fearful claws
The flood is coming for souls
Honesty Victor
