The sound of thousands of locust wings,
A symphony that nature brings,
Buzzing in unison, a deafening hum,
A chorus that makes the trees succumb.
The swarm descends, devouring all,
Leaving nothing but barren soil and pall.
Their wings a blur, their eyes aglow,
As they march on, row by row.
Amidst the chaos, a sight so grand,
The locusts rise like a golden band,
A dance of life, a fleeting chance,
Before they vanish in a final trance.