A great city stands upon its own future ruins,
Awaiting God’s judgement in finite ignorance,
Cement, slab, steel and great glass windows,
Which reflect a force born of potential difference,
That arises afar from the grand sea,
To move and meet its static adversary,
Only to stop in doubt and unclear purpose,
As to why it should ruin such a great reflection,
Unable to accept its own power of destruction,
Giving hope unwittingly to its enemy,
For once a Hurricane thinks twice, it sees,
And before it decides to make a purpose of its own,
The Parameter of War shouts the Truth to be shown,
Reminding it its own Power an unforgiving flow,
“Hurry Hurricane! You’re going to miss your window!”
I Know You Better than