Hurricane
Everybody was running, Acting like if nothing else used to matter. In the caos of the end, the rule is just survive, To go to the right places, To find the better ways to do this, Healthy or insane ways. When lots of people used to go to the same direction, Some of them just walked slowly, But just really a minority of them, Almost noone. Than I saw him inside the crowd, Smiling covertly. He used to go against the rules, always. He used to belong that minority, But in a still different way. The rain use to set free abusive columns Of stormy and laughing winds. So into the episode of caos, In the end, The man was making a call. He was the hurricane.