The Valley that Calls by Deniz Besim - HTML preview

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The Volcano

 

The volcano wasn't meant to erupt

For the next nine centuries.  No lava

Was anticipated when the people

Built their homelands dependent on its soil.

It wasn't until the first signs of smoke

That they looked upon in hapless horror.

 

The volcano spit out flames of horror -

The first signs it was starting to erupt.

The blackest of gray ashen flares of smoke,

Citizens must run away from lava,

That would soon consume their homes as the soil

Would give way to flaming lakes, the people

 

Would have to run.  Frightened were the people,

They cried, 'Unanticipated horror!'

It wasn't meant to come, not on this soil.

The papers said it would never erupt

Not for a long time.  But now the lava

Threatens - as sure as so dense is the smoke.

 

Hot streams would follow magnificent smoke

Quickly they would have to save the people

Let their property now burn in lava

No, they had to save themselves.  In horror

Would they now run, before this eruption

Peaked any worst.  They must leave their home soil.

 

It was not their fertile, inviting soil

No longer.  It was now transformed to smoke

And ash, molten, fiery seas will erupt

They must run before they scorched the people

Panicking.  Squealing screams, shouting, 'horror!'

Into cars to drive off before lava

 

Flows.  Never mind their houses, the lava

Was soon to come.  It would consume the soil

They knew so well.  They realised in horror

That soon they won't recognise it since smoke,

Ash and streams of fire is all the people

Would now see.  Seas of red would now erupt..

 

They cried and wailed for lava would erupt

Their homes lost, the soil ruined, the people

Squealing in horror, engulfed by the smoke.