In the middle of the night
The volcano wakes up and roars
As if for a very long time it had been compressed by a thousand closed doors...

The lava comes out
From the volcano's mouth
It emerges with so much rage
It has been this way since very old age...

Its intense heat
Is hard to beat
The volcano's temperament
Launches its lava down the mountain as an incandescent river
 All kids of moods deliver...

Dark smoke blankets the sky
It is like the world is about to die
It impregnates the air
Breathing becomes impossible to bare...

The lava's stream mesmerizes naked eyes
With the hell it has certainly ties
Astonishing effects on the Mother Earth
Its conjoined mate since of birth...

It is not the volcano's nature
To keep cloistered its feeling
There is no other way but what is inner revealing
This is the only possible path of healing...

The volatility
Of its spirit
Brings to the surface a dance of shadows
Spread to all directions as arrows...

The volcano breaths its essence
Through its lava's phosporescence
The beauty of its genuine personality
Makes the volcano a sentimental
It lives what it feels without masks
It is not judgemental...


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