One does not scale then claim
the ancient mountain

Nor by pretension tame the sea

Sate the deep fire’s searing fountain

Noble, though futile attempts be.



Blood, sweat stained, predatory

Alone infernum, lux ignis I stand.

I fight with no hope for victory

Mine crimson staccato metronome,
life’s sweet stain on desert sand.



Dispassionate, Fire’s breadth consuming all

Whilst ever hollowing from within;

Cracked lips cachinnate the brazen gall,

Endeavoring as healers’ medicine.



Adrift till the last ember chokes,
emptied all of malice and slaughter,

Peace be that last repose, my nox aquis,
to be embraced by night upon the water.