Poem: The Fires

Please Read:
The Fires

Excerpt:

A moment’s glance from these eternal things—
I’ll pounder now the present world:
considering the smoke,
the burning flames
the death—
No breath!—
We pray it rains,
but speaking makes us choke.
It seems that all of Hell’s unfurled.
Where has he flown, the little bird who sings?

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