In torrents rained on and Bermuda near drowned,
Came the big wakes as tall as tsunami.
The wakes they bring dread, ever rips up and shreds,
When the skies with there temper go whammy.

With the bar-o-met-er - 26 inches no more,
As that storm ever barreled intently.
The tide ripped and chewed, its huge cone did ensue,
As its gales of bad temper were surly.

The storm brought high tide to the Americas did ride,
Screaming flack with shrill winds, it would toss 'em.
As big gyrators blow it was just off the coast
Overdue for a slappin' this season.

Obtruding it churns as it shuffles, reels, turns,
If turns left dully noted will cleave land.
Took later a right and the rips swell hang,
Out at sea its stoked wind comes a reeling.

The wind speed grew higher with a rattled maelstrom, [1]
And the waves broke thrashing and flailing.
And as its span grew, as it happened in to.
Was a glitch of strange nature be dealing?

A pond this great it did trek fast sure and straight,
As its gales of bad temper came smashing.
In the monsoon rain with no easing came,
In what space has this hurricane pressed in?

In altered time frame an odd look just a speck,
Grey and yellow a small puff of ether.
Horizon event arcane latch came un-did,
Was surreal as was real or was neither.

What happened there and then? Was dark matter pouring in?
Was a time rip and view eth-er-e-al?
Displayed there like night a black light came into sight,
A vortex in Bermuda Triangle.

Does anyone know where the missing things go?
What occurred in mere minutes takes hours.
It lurched and it swayed in a right pitch array,
Somewhere between the "whiles" entwined there.

In black light lit up but despite its grand size,
Did time take a leap in dark matter?
And all that remains in this place is not the same,
Of when time came undone and did shatter.

Locke's isle atoll; mysterial things,
Some's the doin's of Linus's actions.
A mystical thing, turn the Orchid ring,
The island away it transports them.

At once like a blow, this hurricane shows,
Wakes in and it's eerie, what sent her?
Far and remote thrown, crossin' maritime zones,
And like hell will defenders surrender.

In that musty old hole where the Orchid waits,
They must move in time; bale out of peril,
A lurch and grind, as they hang plenty of time,
Out reach of the storm as it barreled.

The island moves on through a rip and flaw unwound,
Through a time break they fall glitchy zoomy.
Ulterior today, when would they be instead?
If the gales from Bermuda weren't quirky.