Wet, soggy streets that were once filled with dust
With people, with mud with something more
With animals and houses and trees and flowers
Are now filled with rainwater, and accumulating rust
Screams and cries that were once heard
Are now engulfed by the waters
Streams and currents emptied out
A tide of fear that was in the beginning absurd

All of the work that people put in
Their lives a growing business
But since nature decided to intertwine
Their businesses are gone and all that's left is a small tin

And here I must go
For the storm is following me
And the thing that hurts me
Are the never-ending killers
Dead bodies that now roam free

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