Crys continue to form, throughout the clouds.
Forced by fallen molecules, thunder begins to form in the peaceful night.

Covered by a warren blanket
to protect my eyes from all that has fallen.

Three strikes unit to become one,
and they separate moments later.

Their off-spring reeks more havoc
than their first strike into the endless storm.

Crys continue to form and I drown alone in my bed.

For I can not answer the crys of millions of other souls
searching for more than a one night stand.