Cloud Kings Collide


The cold of the east-driven wind

Whips the barren face of mountaintops

Their glossy peaks veiled in heaven’s suspended rain

The swirling continents of air churning over one, over another

Faces loosely etched in their ever fluxing, fluffy, monochromatic expanse

A massy monarch, trident armed and vicious visage clad, he slowly engages cumulus foe

Colossal beast with a horde of heads and baring massive paws and claws

The two foes destructively dissipate in the slowest of motions

And limb from gory limb they mercilessly tear apart

As each the other violently rends

Leaving only misty death


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