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