Image rights to Bakko Brats

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Wall of clouds blocked this view of the prairie,
like loads that burden my troubled shoulders.
The air was charged with thoughts of misery,
this challenge stood like an impending disaster.

Thunderous mad roars in the sky above,
were mere signals of the coming twister.
A dark funnel of air hungrily engulfed,
my desperation to be elsewhere.

This increasing rhythmic beat pounded on my chest,
an assault of adrenaline from the sight I laid upon.
A tornado suddenly anchored itself on the ground,
ravaging the roots of houses and cars of men.

I ran out of view from this heavenly onslaught,
as my crew radioed in – secured and unbroken.
In a vehicle of storm chasers, this vortex distraught,
but with a prayer stored prism, dispositions brightened.