What Would Happen If A Tornado Suddenly Became Conscious?

Spinning, spinning, round and round
Colors before me, sight and sound
Faster, flying, feeling, breathing
Was is this feeling? This seething?

The sky above, the earth below
As everything around me faster goes
Houses, farms, roads, and fields
Everything torn before me yields

Running, running, the cars run away
Why will no one stay and play?
Is it me? Am I the reason they run?
Why do I repulse everyone?

What am I? Where am I right now?
Questions suddenly of who, what, how?
Energy failing, my mind begins to fade
How could it otherwise, of wind it’s made…

No time left to feel or think or live
No time left to apologies and freely give
No time left to ask silly question like why
No time… left… as I slow…ly… …. …