Fingers from heaven
Reach for the shore.
Crooked shafts of light
Electrify the dark sky.
The clouds circle closer.
The rain falls harder.
The howling winds follow.
The waves rise up in fright.
The end is in sight.
A storm is brewing on the horizon.
Lightning shoots across the darkening sky.
Palm trees bow in the increasing winds.
The pink sand recedes in fear.
Waves become towering sheets of ice.
The Florida sun hides its face
Behind angry, grey clouds.
The Dead have come to play.
Paradise is lost and gone.
THE DEAD GAME