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STRENGTH WITHOUT FORM
The winds of a storm,
Are strength without form,
As they rise from the pressures,
From which they are born.
They can push boulders like beads,
Or pull up houses like weeds,
So the warnings we must heed,
Before they do their destructive deed.
The winds pass fast,
But some of the destruction will last,
As a reminder of the storm,
And strength without form.
