Samoom

Seven cities sat* silently in the sandstorm** Waiting as the wind whipped around wickedly** Dun walls draped with dirt and dust** And the darkened sun desperately seeking a dim scenery* But as the unsecured boards were battered and broken about Clapping clappers clipping** the next scene The humans huddle in the hovels hiding and hidden** From the farce of the ferocious furor, full of fear** But then, as suddenly as it started, it subsides** As silence settles** and the sand sifts** down Down to the ground and gravel And carefully eyes peek out of slits and keyholes Seeing the first rays slice through the haze Defining from pastel to watercolor to crisp bristle brush Even if the voice of the cities are still hush* There is a stirring of life Of hope In the end of stormy strife*** *personification **alliteration ***metaphor