Dark clouds cover the distant horizon.
With a loud thundering sound your senses tell you that I am something you fear.
I may start out as a single drop of rain yet any being with any intellect tries to flee my path.
Flee across the meadowland, cross that river with only your pride, and I promise you that will be your last bath.
Come and face me with your pride only heroes and fools can be that dumb.
Hear my voice, feel the turbulence in the air, flee back into your taverns, and try to swallow your fears with some black rum.
Come oh mighty magicians and attempt to swath my path with your petty charms.
Only Gaea has ever welcome with open arms.
Run oh giants, to your precious mountains.
Hide oh kings behind your fortified castles and your pretty little fountains.
No matter how hard you may wish you cannot hide.
I will find you even if I have to make the waves in the rivers, greater than the ocean tide.
Peek out of your windows and watch my lightning make the night sky glow.
You are asking yourself is there anywhere I can run, my answer is hell no.
Come my rain let's chill the mind, chill the body, let's chill their very soul.
I care nothing for the young or old.
Your druids with their witchcraft seek to find out my name.
Let them make all the sacrifices they want I will not be tame.
Pray to your God or pagan deities.
My thunderous voice will silence all prayers from the far mountain to your great cities.
In the western pacific I am known as typhoon.
On the savanna grasslands I am known as monsoon.
Some mortals know me just as another dragon with a golden hoard.
Those that know me well, know me as the Dragon Maelstorm (Storm Lord).

Maelstorm