Creative Writing: Barbed Wind

Barbed wire fingers were strew across the barren land and the familiar smell of death lingered, its stale grip grasped the throats of those brave enough to bear it. The mud became unbearable, it oozed in to every crack and crevice, swallowing anything that
Stood in its direction, it lived and breathed pain and fear. What once where whispering winds became a constant howling cry that slashed and thrashed about.a rumbling pack of clouds had come rolling from the east smothering the morning ambiance of the royal sky and its cracks that filled with amber
gold.