The Storm
The rain falls soundlessly to the ground,
The creatures try not to get wet.
Running swiftly and in a great bound,
Will they make it? No not yet.
They dodge the limbs of trees that fall,
They shiver as the thunder crashes.
The trees seam to form a wall,
They begin to burn and turn to ashes.
The sky darkens and turns to black,
The smoke fills the animals lung.
Running forward and not looking back,
In the air the burning stench hung.
The rain soon smothers the fire,
As if to make sure it burns no higher.
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