Iron Malestrom Series Part 2: The Iron Malestrom

It had arrived, that great and mighty storm,
It came and crashed across the little land
As warm and wet wind whipped across it, and
It rid the land of still and icy form.
The white-hot bolts crash down as fires rip
Across the sky; the only source of light,
They shower streaking sparks as they ignite
The isle and burn it up as the storm slips
Its iron pall about the land and traps
It, insulating, blocking out the Sun
And trapping heat – the damage has been done –
And now the steel clouds keep it under wraps.
The icy state replaced by flames’ display,
Now e’en the sea does match the sky’s steel gray.