The storm is a galloping horse,
Graceful but deadly.
It canters hard across the terrain,
Like a dark brown crane picking up land and throwing it away.
The earth shakes with the sound of pounding hooves,
It rears up and kicks down buildings with strong, sharp hooves.
It reaches down and nudges a forest with its strong head, bulldozering it down,
Wild among a city, it will never stop.
Galloping, storming, snorting.
Beautiful, strong, wild.
