Fierce apocolyptic skies thay cry.

I sit at the window and watch the fierce winds tear through the trees, rattling everything he can. His angry voice crept ito my dreams, he showed me tornadoes made of the blood of man, clouds that were deep black and set in a red sky. He showed me sacrifices and humanity. The howling wind that tapped against my dreams, awoke my fears, and whispered i am so near. He taunted me, tickled my soul, pulled me out from the depths of sleep, and screamed above the universe, your soul is mine to keep.