upon a little town situated the rainforest.
Surrounded by distinct vermins and scums of the earth,
basking stealthily not with the geriatrics of the land.
Preening her unruly children for recognition,
and accepting her deserved grace with no malice.
It had solidified the fate of her manacled sons,
extirpating their unflinching resolve for success.
No remorse
even in the face of tribulation,
been consumed with morale even at the face of dilemma.
Though most Denizens lack thriftiness and loftiness,
but possess flaws, frailties and treacheries.
The land filled with future and vision improbabilities,
caused by hither and thither fracas that surface.
Eventually ends in flood of human blood,
unleashing the horrendous plague of misfortune.
Dignifying the flaccid walls of apparitions,
and strengthening the lower scums of the earth.
The cloud bemoans and clatter rampantly,
as the rain of cleansing pours out.
Men and women parade rapidly for shelter,
without beckoning for mercy.
Let there be an eviction of this hurricane trauma,
that men would limp to thrive not.