Man: The verdict of distant thunder leaves me breathless with dread. Here comes the incensed wind finishing its closing argument whilst the rain thrice brings down its gavel! Guilty of trying to know too much! Guilty of humankind’s slaughter! Guilty by death by mortal injection! Another Man: I await nature’s verdict in this; my prosecution for her murder. The gallery rumbles a sightless storm and fells its thunderous fear, leaving me puffed with a strafing dread. © 2011 by mark prime
(The Weaver's Song)