Peripheral Sight
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Wailing winds rattle windowpanes,
with sounds of moans and clanking chains.
My whole world soon starts to shudder.
And my heart begins to flutter
as a dark, violent vortex,
shakes my house to its foundation.
Caught in my peripheral sight
I see a twisting in the night,
and debris swirling in the dark.
As the tornado carves its mark;
gazing into the face of death
I grab my chest, struggling for breath.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2019
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