C27 27. When the truth is not ugly but abusive

It’s raining heavily. I can see and hear lightning; the clouds’ color is close to black. It’s dark and cold and a vicious wind is whipping me relentlessly. I look around disorientated, I’m in a valley and there isn’t a single tree or flower standing. There’s just mud and my feet are sinking in it. Everything around me appears to be so… dead