Nocturne Vii, Midnight Storm Poem by Kate Wiley

my goal is to write 24 nocturnes, after Chopin. I have 14 so far.

That rushing siege of Midnight Storm
Wielding her weight in mighty form,
Conquers trees and fields with glory
Her dark clouds like purgatory
Sending blasts of blazing flare;
The blinding burst of lightning's glare
In black Sky's brilliant sword-clash strung
Gold crowns of Gotterdammerung
Powerful as raven's wings-
Heart-beats of those bold hammerings.
Her warriors riding jet-black horses
Showing strength of Titan forces,
Cast from fingers' silver nails
The pelting rocks of frozen hails.

Raindrops flailing brushy streams
Find sirens calling out to dreams
Left far behind, in the Azores
In ships that wrecked on ocean's shores
And madden the waves that hurl themselves
Rushing, multiplied by twelves
To stately death on golden sands,
Kismet's sands-those endless strands.
She dances then the dance of death
Weaving herself a coral wreath
Then morning breaks eternally
She sings and moans a reverie
Of glories past now lost to view-
Calm water's sky reflecting blue.