Born In the Thermals

What is born in the thermals of a barren land A spiral of destruction sublime (I feel its power seeping into the ground) Across the seas, it comes with fury With no conscious thought, it gives to its wake It can feel no sorrow as lives are at stake No other peril of divinity, the instrument of a Geo-thermal machine a perfect design Leagues in size, all-seeing eye, arms hold thunder In dark clouds hold lighting watching... Watching it lance, the broken plains. It claims the spoils. (The deconstruction of man-making is in its mind) The plundering of the Apes' riches As a coil of power pulls tighter A Hand clutches the invisible Like the gods of antiquity fighting a holy war In heavenly realms; up high The clouds fly, see the flickering Once a war of nature ravaged this land of my mine Now comes the braking of that peace Whaling of Lands and Wind I stand to defend this land of mine With nothing but my hands and time (I tie down everything to keep it with me, my only company) The fury comes, I pray to a god of cold stars, That I will survive This destruction of land and man To live to see another day, The power of wind-born in a desolate age, A spiral of wicked filigree, liquid pain, I wonder, I see no end in this primal rage, I ponder its birth plains. This eternal wrath! (This Hurricane…)