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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
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