The mist builds and the rain falls.
What could have been?
The fertile soil left untilled
Leaving no hint of what may have flourished.

The fear of the storm has consumed all
And inspired the search for ever elusive higher ground.
A futile search for a false sense of safety
Leading only to the deadly trap.

Never turning to face the wind
There is no hope to see the end.
Who will the empty walls be left to shelter?
Will the strength to return ever be found?
Without the rain what can grow?