Inferno (5 October '25)

In terror, a tear
In fear, a deep roar;
See white heat arise
To seer my wet eyes,
Denies all comfort;
No quiet reprise,
The fire, it rides
With sulphurous eyes,
And hides its knives,
In arid black, strives;
Revives the ghosts,
Vast legion to boast,
Their numbers aswarm
To warn, forlorn,
All breathing and born;
The fire, it rides,
Its terrible guise
Defies escape,
No time to arise
And fly; no doubt
It will come about:
Ash, cinder, and soot,
Black curtain to shut,
Abut the walls
‘Till all but one falls;
The fire, it stands,
With blood on its hands,
Lips part, words soft,
Its head held aloft:
“I’ve come for your heart,”
Too slow, I start, I’ve
No time to part;
The fire, it rides
Leaves nowhere to hide,
The ire it abides,
And never to tire,
No height to deny
Nor depth undefiled;
My mouth ajar,
I scream but, ah
The air is so dry,
I’ve no voice to cry
Or call, at all,
And as the black caul
Descends, I crawl,
Its phosphor gaze falls,
Red body aflame,
I daren’t speak its name,
I wither and fail,
And ache for the rain.