THE RAINBOW IS A PENINSULA

THE RAINBOW IS A PENINSULA
The skies renounced tourism
The wings screeched to a perch
The feathers clang to a sudden close
Within their aerial tears, fears and wears
The skies embraced terrorism
The wings wet with burning acid
Migrant feathers fired to the marrows
Like faggots mocking the furious flames
Darkness fumed for the skies
Witch-hunting the rarest galaxies
The rainbow was the calm peninsula
Shrouded in secrecy, clouded in potency
The clouds gang-traded in rains
Under a high barometric pressure
The quickest souls, the fountain pens
Pitched their tents in the colourful rainbow