Beauty of the Monsun

When the monsun floods,
Mother Nature takes it's toll,
No prayers said will be answered.

My lonely shack,
washed out to sea,
as the rain screams in torrents.

Young children, here and there,
cry for the families
they have lost.

Foliage and animals alike,
float idly by,
waiting for the doom
that was set upon us all.

Out before me in the sea,
the typhoons erupt from the sky.

What a glorious sight
as they touch down
upon the oceans.

These are my last moments
and I'm glad
to have witnessed a phenomenon.

As the currents drag me
to my watery grave,
I smile and say.
"Thank You.."
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