Drums of War

Thunder collapse, drown through rising suns, faltering, flattering the down a lazy phoenix spread across the lawn,
holding together a twilight curse that ended a long time ago, restless water stirs on the edge of the rushes, dropping off to the glazing heat that defeats a calm sleep.
Drips of wet make the earth shine, reflect the distant pasts, memories that weren’t real to those present now, barely a question in their lingering minds, halted by the hallowing screech of the sun.
Slow breaths controlled their motions, waiting, watching stars fall away.
Rain pattered along the roads, wheels cranking and turning, yielding little results,
stuck in the glistening mud,
water striking against metal, their ears ringing with the closeness of hope. It was foretold to stop soon.
And then the real world would begin.
Light winds carried leaves, rustling trees into wild motions, bending and forming around themselves, dancers in reeds.
Swallowing didn’t help. Streams flooded downriver, hills filled with water fell to the sides, green oceans making patterns in the weather.
If someone spoke, it was pointless. The thundering demanded attention, grabbing their wills by the dozen, raising doubts in the tiny birds, clutching their children tight to shield them from the coming storm—the current one was bad enough, they should be glad they didn’t know what was coming.
Shouts staggered them into motion, metal wet with mud, clattered in brown and soaked to the core. Rummaging metal was heard as they rose, the sun greeting them barely through a spark in between the heavy clouds.Hope might be the only thing left to cling to. Hope might be worth even greeting the sun one last time. The rain didn’t care to give them any final wishes. They stood, counting the thunder in cracks, beating them down before any fight had begun.