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 Properly returned to the dirt Like the last of the black glaciers