Volcano PoemOf conic design, this giant remainsVolcano Poem by retreating-hope
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Pulled up from earth, and reaching for sky
A stone in slumber, although her veins
Pump hot garnet rage; keep her alive
From above all, she watches downward
With one cold eye, in her earth-cast center
Volcano finds herself feeling ignored,
Envious of all the life below her
For immeasurable time, all she has seen
Is the mobility others have been allowed
Yet take for granted, it appears obscene
To she who when stirred sometimes sets free a cloud
The Natives below lark about
Peaceful and keen, they have no knowledge
Of fear, they are happy, have no doubt
That they are secure from all carnage
Suddenly, the island sways on its waves
Rocks dance furiously on the ground
The sky fills with blood, like a vicious rave,
Natives are tossed and thrown abound
Screams claw their way through the thick gray
As heat pours down onto the village
Life melts off, then is carried away
Nothing is spared, all is pillaged
A raw smolder is all that remains
Volcano has had her w
ReaperGlancing upon crimson skies,Reaper by 13wishes
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like a raven he lay in wait.
A fallen angel perched up high,
counting as the final hour drew nigh.
As crimson gave way to a velvet black,
a veil of darkness cloaked the land,
as fields of gold were stained with steel,
with the Devil they sealed the deal.
As the still of night was pierced with screams,
among the cries moved a force unseen,
like a mighty plague he swept the land,
as the face of God turned,
and He lifted His hand.
No army or weapon stood as darkness loomed,
from the start they had sealed their doom,
and in the now crimson fields where his task begun,
no one was left,
his work was done.
As he stood alone in the killing fields,
his grief betrayed by his eyes of stone.
were those who lay around him victims of wrath?
Or testaments of those who gazed upon him,
the face of Death?