Mischievous Midnight

The fiery ball retracted its scolding claws into its nuclear factory and walked into darkness. Perhaps we should zoom closer into the small globe which was a mirror of sorts, that showed deep healing wounds from the departing gray clouds. But for now there was a silver glowing face which smiled with dented dimples. Whatever strange scene was taking place in the empty vacuum above, none could match midnight’s obscenities.

Men lurked through piles of ash and stone from their volcanic isle, but crime was their names and each one stole away the pride and glory of children, that being childhood.

Women were withering in the wintry solstice with nothing but a cold drink to revive their innards. Imagine at will what every second of life was like in this dying town near the sea.

One was certain that the night was the Queen of havoc and day reigned gloriously over people with a solar fist.

Grab your will once more and imagine what the scar upon this small globe was. This small volcanic isle had been taken by surprise by a swirling prince of hate, and even with day reigning over all, it could not prevent the downfall of the small town near the sea.