Dark, thunderous clouds roll over,
Bolts fixed on one target,
The son tries in vain to protect his father,
But even as we speak he deteriorates still...
The black clouds are a warning sign,
The thunder bolts are the threat,
I have seen it all before,
Except no clouds came to warn me...
It was just flash...
And he was gone...
It is always the undeserving who die,
It is always the undeserving who suffer,
It is always the undeserving who cry,
It is always the undeserving who lose their fathers...
The clouds grow darker and darker,
The bolts edge ever closer,
The son cannot continue protecting his father,
Pretty soon, it will all be over...
And his suffering will be no more...
The darkness is coming...
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