Weathering Hate

The way, exposed to weather, a body is worn. Velvet threads begin to
wither, rapid ripened beyond the burst bloom. Vibrant strands, cut short,
fray, unweaving faded fabric. Sun-struck, rain-warped, storm-blasted,
rough-sanded in whipping wind that whittles rock. 

Small, torturous fractures opened in stone where water freezes in the
pores with grains of salt. Cracks in the surface pried apart by unrelenting
pressure. With incessant freezing and thawing, shock and fatigue speed
rugged stress to ultimate breakdown. Intemperate weather, abrading
edges, gradually disintegrates resolute minerals. 

A boulder, even a mountain, will wear down. So will bodies, bent and
broken under toilsome burdens, caving beneath unbearable weight, in
adverse climate, exposed to harsh elements, caustic rains.