Buccaneering Dorian

Like wild buccaneers on a partying raid, they came ashore. Fierce waters and winds wielding their destructive swords grabbing defenceless trees by the necks: viciously shaking their hair-like foliage heads; bending their backs; snatching them up and throwing them here and there. With torrential forces, the marauding buccaneering waters and winds leveled mortared and boarded constructions as if they were thatched huts of shade. Young and old beings became like unripe and ripened fruits consumed by the ravaging forces of nature. Behind, lay skeletal fields and sandy shores laden with rampaged debris. Satisfied with the fun and booty, the buccaneering twins return to their seafaring sails in search of more up roaring. Meanwhile, the prodigal Sun returns, reflecting dry salty tears pasted on the faces of those who must now iron out their wrinkled lives. In the aftermath, Nature makes no apologies and God can’t be cursed.