Dark Lung of the Storm

In deranged sleep I dream of storms
Returning from stricken fields
Monumentally indifferent
Unhindered by moral restraint
At my behest it’ll all be grinded
Down to the bare minerals
As the sky reverberates
Like forests of gallows
The hillsides are in flames
Remnants of past cosmic battles
Like iron and rockslide
In the dark lung of the storm
Perpetual fluctuations
Of a threadbare empire
Proprly returned to the dirt
Lik the last of the black glaciers