Inferno
by M. F. B. Porter
Staring at the sun
So brilliant and bright
As its rays shine down
Pure golden light
It’s warmth on the skin
It’s fire in the eyes
with nothing to shield
From the Inferno’s rise
The warmth turns to heat
And the light turn to flame
While all of the rays
Take ready to aim
It beams and it burns
And it rolls and it boils
It parches and kills
All of it’s spoils
And once it does set
It gives short reprieve
But always comes back again
Intent to bereave.
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