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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Eye of the Storm, It was there on a warm, muggy night. That of a dark but black cloud that linger across the sky to which I thought it was going be just another stormy night. There to which was a night the moon could be seen at a larger view. It was there on that night the moon was no where in sight. As I rode across the interstate it was almost as if you would have to dodge the lightning as it struck thousand times over. From cloud to ground it strikes of bright but that of half mile wide streaks in the night. I ride for miles in search of that storm of the night, hoping to bypass the lightning of the skies that strikes. With no rain fallen on the wind shield, I push that 80,000 in flight. Praying that I miss the storm of the night, for many miles had rolled off when I had crossed that Texas and Okalahoma line. When all a sudden it had started to fall, that of the rain begin to fall. The winds blow that to which was like a snow drift blow but that of rain drops instead of snow. It was there I held on tight as I had felt my gut say I was in for a ride. It was there I hit the eye of the storm as I was the only one in the storm. For many trucks had park but I dare the dark and it was there to which I had experienced the three tornadoes in the dark. That of the eye of the storm as I was lifted up by the storm. Oh yes, blowing me to the side as I gripped the wheel real tight. As I had felt it pick the 80 thousand twice I just knew this wasn’t my night. I just knew I was through for the night as I had thought I would be bottom side up in the eye. That to which was confirm was a sight of tornadoes to touch in form. That of the scariest time I had ever experienced in my life and time. That by which was the grace of God to which kept me safe by far because I thought for sure that I would be slam somewhere afar. But instead I punched through the other side, only to find more trucks parking on the side. And finding out that there were three tornadoes that had form as the lightning in the center wasn’t that of form but that of the eye of the storm. That of bright light in the middle of the storm as it was there I could not have seen because of the storm. But there to which I experienced the eye of the storm. And that of God’s grace as he had saved me from that of a fierce storm. But there was not only just another storm but the eye of the storm. That of tornadoes in form..
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