The nimbo-stratus takes it's form,
The thunder weeps it's growl.
The rain will open up it's storm,
As a wolf will howl.

The music drowned by the fury above,
Will return with it's own revenge.
The words once sung of times of love,
Soon turn so to avenge.

The cool wind blows,
it breaks the storm.
The sun soon shows,
a glorious sky reborn.