Dark Skies - Poetry

Without a doubt,
They floated rumbling in anger.

Directed at none in particular,
But focussed on one.

A sense of nothingness,
Took over the commuters.

A meaningless wandering,
Across the world.

Only to rain at the end,
Washing away to the ocean.

There are things to wish for,
Whether they come true or not.

A prayer in the evening,
Every day for a hundred days,
Got just the opposite result.

Is it any wonder,
That then the people ponder.

If it all could be another page,
From a different book they say?

Why then,
Does the river flow?

Photo by Chase Emmons on Unsplash