6 minutes & 24 seconds

The blinds have shut themselves
Against the wickedness
That brewing the fog of the city
That stirs in shadows as the lanterns sleep.
While inside, the violins breathe from their bouts.

The opaque sky is growing apprehensive
The beaten pane rattles but there is no wind--
Hard tree limbs waltz along the glass window,
Angered by my tenacity to hear crescendos
the double base and violoncello above the
silent, stirring gale.

I am steadfast
As steady as the beat, an undertow
Between the orchestra and this watery haunting
My fortress thickens as the violinists
Stroke pure strings of steel to call
the archangels. Michael and Gabriel.

The storm has arrived but so has the high
piercing note that rises from the strings and falls with the rain.
Rain capsules of sulfuric acid.
Expressivo cantando

The pane shudders but holds
Though the water presses harder like molten ash.
Like a spear, the lightning is cast down and
the heterophony of the violins lace
a fortress of heavy melodious ebony
that surrounds me. It resonates to suppress.

This prey-haunting crow
Defeatedly flies,abandons
But wait’s a hungry zombie
Violins alazed in a chasing fire, silence
A morendo cadence
Gone but still guarding for the next storm.