It

It. It rode the wind that swept the vale. It scaled the mountains high. It conquered everything it saw, cruel raider from the sky. The screaming hordes before it fell their bodies torn and crushed. It tossed aside the remnant flesh from which all life had gushed. It crossed the plains from east to west It passed from north to south. Cold scorn surged out before it as the spite spewed from its mouth. A devastating trail of death All hope of salvage gone. The elements in all their rage ensured the war was won. Indomitable spirit. Man has always faced his plight. Whatever nature hurls at him He'll turn around and fight. Man will not be crushed underfoot or trampled down to dirt. In time he'll resurrect his world. The years will heal the hurt. © Copyright 2007 ~Sue Carroll~