Nocturnal Fires
Lofted wars of the restless skies,
upward hell risen from pacific grounds,
infernal fires from the demonic cannons
or spectral fires from the ghosts of the Apocalypse,
or blitzes born from the spasmodic militants
from their homes in the complicated skies,
the skies controlled by two minds,
the peaceful that sings in the blooming of the roses
or the disquieted ones that ride on a lightning bolt,
opening their hearts to the thrill of the ride
with one mind claiming victory over the other,
where nocturnal fires erupt from their conquest
over the splintered trees and charred forests
that were in the wake
from the war of evil over the good,
but such beauty in the deeds of the evil,
the animated galleries moving through the restless air,
the midnight flashing, the spasmatic impulses,
the bright colors shimmering against the black sky,
the jagged knives slicing through the black clouds,
nocturnal fires and their skyline illuminations,
the sweet rumbling of the saccharine skies,
the crackling sounds of the lightning
like a team of tympani blasting away in the
prelude to the grand finale of an animated opus,
a rousing rhythm with an accelerating volume
that brings the orchestral piece to a glorious ending,
and a waking up the stagnant spirit that goes to sleep
during the lengthy calming that is too calm,
the days too quiet, the nights too placid,
the air too lethargic, the vanishment of the clouds,
the Earth searching for a pulse,
a glimmer of rebellion, a stirring uprising,
a revolt against the dominating stagnation
that numbed the spirit in the human heart
and cast humanity into a deep sleep.
“Oh, skies of good and evil,
please go to war again and chase away the
cobwebs that settled down in the human spirit.”
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