Super Typhoon Sunset

Your black eyes implore
Me as the sun’s many swords
Paint our faces red.

In the storm’s own wake,
Watercolours of the world,
Paint strokes of the Gods

Oily blue on white,
Cloudy battleships form up.
Apocalypse sun.

Heaven’s golden gates,
As the demented ghosts come,
Bye bye McDonalds.

Fingers, etching stretch.
Super typhoon shadow on
Swish swooshing grass fields.

Now only the church
Stands alight, bathing before
The concrete giants.

The sun’s dipping low
I think its about to go
Unleash me that storm!