“Storm!” They cry.
With prickled ears and dreaded eyes
Through panicked steps and maddening trips
The sun droops her heavy head
“God!” They plead.
He doesn’t answer.
The wind tears through and rips the trees
The dogs scream in desperate howls
No man nor beast dare block it’s path
“Mercy!” They beg.
Now mourning comes.
With ruined homes and pillaged lives
The crops are gone and the cattle torn
Dead, the town. Empty, their plight.
And no one cries.
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