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Storming

March 4, 2019

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All is silent.

All is still.

But nobody saw,

Just over our gentle hill

Loomed a great dark cloud

As black as night.

The trees are soldiers

Tensed for a fight.

It’s true power hidden,

Destruction would ensue.

If only we could see

Its sinister hue.

 

All was silent.

All was still.

Winds had leveled

That quiet hill.

The sky may have cleared,

But that dark cloud still lingers.

Deep in our heart,

And in our now lifeless fingers.

About the Writer
Photo of Tyler Harris
Tyler Harris, Fluco Beat Editor

Tyler is a junior in his second year of Journalism. He likes to travel, play video games, and swim.

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