Friday, April 3, 2009


It rose and it fell with the fury of hell
It roared and it thrashed. It soared and it crashed
The force that drove it - seemingly infinite

It hissed and spat. Then it rolled out flat
It sat so quiet, the end of its riot.
The force that had driven it - was it spent?

Force of such kind, akin to that of your mind
When it gains the right bent, can never be spent
There it does roll -limitless