If I Were Cyclone Gita

If I Were Cyclone Gita

I Would Weaken as I am Too Strong

Destroy Everything In My Path

Hammer Through The Greatest Lands,Valleys and Mountains

Lift The Sea

Tremble The Sky Above

Now In The Skies You Won’t See a Dove

Make It Hard For You to Love

I would Be So Cold You’d have to Wear a Glove

Make the Greatest Storms Serve Me

Equal To Death

I Rage From The Pacific Ring Of Fire

I Blow so Much I could Pop your Cars Tyre

Wind moves Times

Now as the sun Peeks through the clear Clouds

People can Set up Windchimes

By Arpit Behal