It is destruction made out of thin air,
You hear it howl and give a prayer,
Through barns and houses it will tear.
It is a deadly funnel,
Of violent and twisting air.
The floor's on top, the roof's beneath, and from this place I rarely leave. Yet with the passing of each day. A new horizon greets my gaze.See answer
You can read it both ways, I wear; One way it's a number, reversed a snare.See answer
Select a pack of riddles and try to solve it in an interesting way.
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