Everyone loves to bask in the sun
A violent storm was born in ‘97.
It began it’s path with forest in mind,
Where it could transfer energy in peace.
Unfortunately storms do not walk quietly.
They leave shattered wreckage,
Breaking hearts of any so Ill-fated to bear witness.
As the storm grew so did the chaos within.
Each townsperson knew of it’s presence,
Though all gave a contrasting response.
Many ran, taking heed to shelter.
The preponderance stared from afar in awe,
Basking in the sun beams & whistling wind.
Unaware of the inner thunder and lightning which powered it.
Very few sought to stay put.
Attempting to let the storm pass over them,
As they relished in all it’s unpredictability.
With each bid came a ghastly fate.
The storm was too powerful for any to endure.
Settlers passed on warnings.
Causing future generations to be weary,
Knowing beauty becomes lawlessness when one dare stand too close for too long.
You see everyone adores the sun.
If only there were a storm chaser brave enough,
To look into the eye and survive.
