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"Thunder Rolls"
 The thunder comes rolling wave after soul shaking wave. The poor creatures in the path worry about nothing except how their own lives can be saved. The earth itself seems to cry from the coming onslaught. For the ones who are slow and weak know that escaping the wrath they will not.
The air seems to pressurize and explode from the destruction ever so near. Run, run, and run is all that we feel with no time to fear. The ground is ripped from its hold; all that once was is now shredded and maimed. To stop and think is to give up hope and let your life force be drained.
This is the terror that kills, rips, and takes its deadly toll. The one known creature that makes the thunder roll. For here comes the dreaded machine that comes back week after week. To an ant, the awesome power of a lawnmower is the force that we speak.