Nature’s Rage

Molten lava slides down the earthen sides of a cracked hilltop Caressing the dirt of ancestors

Passing heat and passion through the urban mould of dilapidation

Lascivious lava licking the skin off melting skull and bone

Orange balls of fiery fire curving like a forked tongue into shattered windows

Morbidity takes on new meaning as the living scream

Scrambling over the melting dead.

The molten orange serpent slides slowly but surely, swallowing survivors whole Plastic bubbles and melts.

Metal glows hot, scorching iridescent designs of destructive horror

The serpent does not desist.

Its orange glow casts fiery shadows into which people run But they cannot hide.

Lava flows strongly and there is no running from the heat of past sins

It spews forth from the gut of the earth like the rage of predecessors

The aftermath is warm and gray.

Smoke rushes up to meet survivors, the last whispers of the screaming dead Destruction is solid

Morphed and melted, bone, plastic and metal converge to tell a story

A story of nature’s rage.

Shafeen Mustaq