Boom, Boom, Boom.

As one color left the cloud filled sky,
Blackness fulfilled the air, total silence came,
Across the mud soaked field.
The heart’s beating heavy and strong.
Waiting, anticipating, wanting,

Boom, Boom, Boom.

As the ash turns to Snow, and Color turns to wind,
The rush, the high, of the smoke comes back.
As, the dark sky turns to color again,
We never want it to leave,
But strangely we always find a way back to that magical time.