Deep Thunderstorm

Deep thunderstorm,
Keeps coming for him.
Just a brief ruckus in another world,
It's something coarse.
What's but a wonder
To slumped in front of auras,
Looking for the chorus.
Of course the troupe is sorted
I'm just martian to the order,
Sorta marching to the former met with nothing works I alter,
Musta never really had a deep connection to the altar.
I'm just sorting any uttered word in court to re-utter gore,
This the kind of Monday morning where you'd want to be Dumbledore.
I make a beeline out of Butterworth,
and bump the track with Mother Earth.
It's something after something worse,
I'm shoving back the sunken sword.
The chosen one is one coerced to be a punching bag foreboding war,
Voldemort, could this be what you were hoping for?
It's something brothers cordialize, these brothers something more of Loki, Thor.
Ungoldy oath, my Odin's corpse,
Immortalized.
I motion towards the open doors and say,
"I'll make the way along and way back home before you even know I'm gone."