The arc of the pine— with Thepalestrider

 
The virulent tempest  
In the cruel blade of midday
Now rages forth unyielding
An ovation in grey

The crease of the fescue
The arc of the pine
Bend and break before it
In a most crooked line

Mantled eclipses  
With sable designs  
Spread shadow like poison  
Through trembling vines

Now dusk is no refuge  
For the storm still proceeds
With lightning that rends  
Both the sky and the trees

The rocks split asunder  
Where the fire takes hold
And the world burns crimson
With the night growing cold

Suffocating the stars
Of heaven to flay
Harden furor and rage
In a celestial display

The tempest now weeps
but no mercy it brings
It tears at the mountains
The thunder still sings

Cracks in umbral sky
Bolt lashes the plains
And nothing, no nothing
Of calmness remains