The daisy sways in the breeze.
The winds pick up.
A siren sounded, alerting that tragedy is near.
Winds whip around,
The sky turns green.
Nothing good could come out of this.
This could be the end of me.
I could die.
I may not be here tomorrow.
This could be my last breath.
Words I would never thought I would have to think.
Wretched funnels start to form up above.
Lower and lower they come.
Touching down, a funnel comes my way.
Run.
Get out of here.
Closer the funnel comes.
I'm done for.
I'll die for sure.
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray The Lord my soul to keep.
For if I die before I wake,
I pray The Lord my soul to take," I prayed silently.
I sat down,
Closed my eyes,
And let myself go.
