The Rain, the Sky, and the Wind

No brilliance, behind black eyes,
Only shadows, behind blue skies.
The reign of terror, brought much sin,
But the rain from the sky, it cools your skin.

No temptation, does the dust give,
Only in emptyness, does the water live.
There's a tornado of pain, it puts you to shame.
You, the wind, you can't play its game.

Nature is kind, and nature is merciful.
Nature is killer, and nature is murderous.

This is the oxymoron of the earth, the atmosphere, the stars,
They're only metaphor, they live in our heads, only ours.
We create our own worlds, insane, existent only in our minds.
The proverbial gold-mine of stories, ledgends, and rhymes.

Our boundless creativity, our improbable whim.
This is what brings us, the rain, and the sky, the wind.