Invocation.

The clouds burst into pieces, small sharp shards of shrapnel piercing the air. The sun cascades in through the window and shuns away from the sky. It darkens outside. The temperature drops. Ice crystals form on frosted window panes. Breath vapors cling to the air, visibly shaking in fear.

The swing that I'm sitting on begins to shake as well. A rumbling begins to shake the very earth itself. I draw an aegis of courage from somewhere deep in the depths of my soul and try to face what is bound to come.

The ground splits open. A yawning chasm opens. Blinding darkness spews forth, enveloping the sun. The rainbows are covered with dark, heavy tones. A prismatic spray of darkness issues forth from the gash and begins to send runners towards the swingset. I inhale the frozen air. My aegis is insubstantial, founded upon myth and legend, and crumbles like dust. The tendrils begin to creep up the poles.
Where is the light? Is it sobbing somewhere, surrounded by shadows?

The rainbows have become tainted with brilliant shades of black. The chasm has fixed its signs on the earth. The darkness has left this place in ruin.
Black clouds pool on the edges of the chasm as the slash of a mouth overflows with chromatic ink.

And so it was there, sleeping dormant deep inside of me.
It lay there, bubbling silently from the gash, shrouding the entire city.
They retreated back into the netherworld. Gone, but not entirely gone. The sun isn't quite as bright as it used to be. Those rainbows aren't as prismatic as they should be.

And that playground has never been the same.