Ash and ember choke the sky,
Universe’s own fury roaring high.
Fortunes crumble, kingdoms fade,
Yet none lament the price they’ve paid.
The blaze runs wide—men starve, men kneel,
But ruin plants what fire will heal.
From blackened soil, fate finds its thread,
Forged anew where hope once bled.
The path is jagged, lit by flame,
A trial etched in war and name.
Those who burn may carve the way—
Through serpent smoke and shadowed sway.
In Path of Wrath, the poet conjures a scorched world where destruction is not merely an end, but a violent rebirth. Fire becomes both judgment and genesis—cleansing the old to forge a new fate from ash. This poem walks the edge between ruin and resolve, echoing themes of apocalyptic reckoning, sacrifice, and the relentless force of transformation through chaos.
