NORMAN WILSON
CINDERING HELL
The bonfires
of hell rise
From the red
flames of desires
Where hearts
burn forever
In the black
caldrons of fire
She rages on
the wild winds
From rooftop
to rooftop
Flashing a
firestorm of ire
Before her
marauding stops
A forest lay
in charcoal waste
Given to a
cinereous grave
Where she
traps fifteen souls
That coward
in her fiery wave
They were
the drunken huntsmen
That stirred
her deadly blaze
Awaking her
from the dark-side
Leaving a
woodland in soot and haze
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