The darkness was waning beneath the abundance of moonlight that projected in sporadic rays across the open vicinity. The westward winds licked and tainted the Evergreens in immutable acrimony as paranormal shadows writhed in atrocious grandeur to their ghoulish lyrical tunes of whispered prophecies. It was grotesque how nature reacted to the recent events. The sky’s unwavering glare was aided by the dilating population of overcasts that so deviously took possession of the night sky, and it was in this treacherous cynicism that nirvana discerned this catastrophe. The skeletal trees loomed in anguish as they bided in the malign aura of the grotesque silhouette; his cynical stare alone creating an indefinable reverence that ran like a venomous tide of pale savagery through the marrow. He was the eloquence in blight, he was the paradigm of an artificial benevolence, and if provoked he was the creature of abhorrent spite. Ignoring the mare, Shazaam responded, his voice came upon the silent atmosphere like the undulating threats of thunder across an empty savanna, and yet, it still possessed a calm and lulled rhythm that could rub a wound of vexation upon your mind.