The Wind and the Graveyard

The wind screeches as it zigzags between the gravestones. The grass green as emeralds bends and sways as the wind smacks into it like a truck hits a dire. The hare and close of the mourners attending a funeral flutter's and flaps as the wind pushes it away. A red rouse flies through the are as the wind steals it from a grave. Such a cruel and uncaring thing the wind is just like the god that made it. The same god that took away your loved on and then sent his cruel creation to come and mock you. As you seal them in their tomb of dirt for ever.