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the inferno that is the human soul
April 7, 2014
People are fires;
burning until the day
they get stamped out.
We turn to ash held by translucent skin,
then blow away,
our blood the only thing still red.
(And then there are those of transcendental inferno,
who consume,
unrestrained.
They are fed by oxygen;
clean lungfuls exhaled to smoke,
white-hot as archangels' wrath,
living in soot structures
from which they still build flame.
And to put these flames out
takes a complete
and total
flood of the earth.)
© Hali S., Robinson, IL
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