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A poem about the destructive forces of nature. |
| The geologists’ best friend: a few days warning. The indigenous folks, quickly informed by air horns To scatter from their homes. Molten rock spewing forth, The orange neon lava and ashen clouds, trapped for centuries Beneath the sleeping giant, now Pouring out beyond its gaping fissure. The geologists, urgently seeking to understand And study the natural phenomenon, To help others avoid its horrific costs. But all that is left in the wake of the creeping lava – A death toll and homeless villagers, Lives that have been torn apart By the molten rock and the clouds of ashes. Here, too, good people seeking to rebel against the uncontrollable Forces of nature, with innocent lives hanging in the balance. |