Milk Of The Clouds

A peril of despair hovers, perching in the air.
Wafting a stubborn sour breeze of dis-ease
Darkening the sky-- bruising the burnt cottonous clouds--
As fate and destiny conjoin forthwith conspiring to appease.

Lightning spoke first and spoke fast, inspiring the score.
Thunder followed suit and followed swift, with rattling roar.
A pregnant pause before the haunting dirge,
A daunting deluge, and the lamentable downpour of a drowning scourge.

Non-stop raindrops numb the hungry desert's famine.
Gargling gleefully the plentiful pardon from nimbus breasts.
The guarantees of blessings after a requiem of reprieve,
Burrowing the charred chambers, unchapping the parched pleas.

Drenched and satisfied, suckling unforgivingly the voluminous provisions,
The ground abounds adorned with adulation beaming admiration to the heavens.
Suspending in salubrious contentment of a gainful enchantment,
Wherefore is the disdain? A presumptuous iniquity, now bekissed by the rain.