The earth stood still as you gave away your wrath in streaming droplets and muddy puddles.
People hurried through the streets, seeking shelter, moving across bodies, finding comfort in a sea of damp clothing and disheveled appearances.
A stranger puts his hand out, testing your ire on his skin, sighs heavily and says, "this is going to take a while".
And the earth stood still listening to your thunder cries and lightning tears, absorbing your anger inside its chest made of humid clay.
Ah, your storm clouds are ringing in my ears.