Pools of magma stir under the thin surface.
The earth is consciousness.
When the juices of fermented fruit  flood the Earth
and the molten rock is disturbed by friction,
He
with his robes of shadows,
He
With his fleeting like the wind,
He
with his craftiness to seduce the elements,
comes and possesses
the body that controls the lands.
 
Idle becomes the consciousness
as it  floods with toxins.
And so
also
the gates for the saline waters of emotion
become rusty and shut.
Then become primed the crucial ingredients
for his fine brew of venom.
 
“More  fire!”
He steals the powers of the Earths core
and uses the heat of its friction.
He further sets the plates in motion.
The brew will simmer.
 
Then,
one final thrust.
Out of the earth’s crust,
He roars out volcanic emission.
“Come out meteoric spews of  fire!
Injure life forms that surround!
Pollute the ones in the background!
Then drop back into
that venomous brew,
so it excels over its boiling point!”
 
When the heat has caused the saline waters
of emotion to evaporate,
and all venom’s absorbed
by the organisms
of the lands environment,
He has fulfilled his twisted intent.
 
That is done and now He’s called
to aid the anguish of another place.
In his robes
of shadows,
He disappears with the wind,
leaving the blame of his sin
to the Earth;
drained, cratered and cracked.

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