This artistic and ancient civilisation settled on these fertile slopes a millennia ago,
in peace with the land they live in complete harmony for they are not a war-faring race.

They plant crops and grow grapes on the lower slopes of the huge towering volcano,
everyone ignores the billowing clouds of steam issuing forth, they know they’re safe just as their parents knew.

At midday the earth rocks and then the volcano explodes, sleeping mountain awakes with a massive roar. Fire and rocks fly forth in all directions and lava flows down the steep slopes.

Villagers run away scared but many are caught in the fall of hot ash and rock,
as the burning lava destroys their crops and town they know the end is near.
Falling ash covers everything and everyone so that they’ll be hidden for three thousand years, entombed to their end.

the house of pain
the sadness got accumulated in there where the feelings got translated To few letters awash with tear drops .

tears of wounds bleeding lava from the heart whish is bombing like
the volcano getting out the fume yelling begging  for
the freedom

Tears brimming in my eyes
Like a volcano ready to explode.
Instead I keep it within myself,
Shredding my insides
And melting my skin.
A cry for you is swallowed,
Escaping for a moment
Only to be clapped over,
Sobbing into these hands.
The air in my lungs fill with smoke,
I shake as I am ready to erupt.
"Explode explode explode."
Instead I sit back and watch
Myself from third person perspective.
The screams of pain
Filling up this brain
Like a volcano ready to explode.

You might not know the real me
The One you see and roams free
and the other whom you read locked in my poetry
I am a soothing breeze when heard
I could be a volcano in words
Gentle as a dewdrop on your window in a beautiful winter morning
I am the storm trapped in my pages rumbling and alarming.
Flip in the pages once ready for the thunder storm and fire flashes
You'll meet the whole of me once this dust settles.

Sleepy feelings erupted on the landscape in her mind. Volcanoes jutted up across wild fields of endless rhyme. Visions from the clouds rained down to fill the empty streams. The lava steamed with fury as her heart began to dream.

The streams turned into rivers and then they overflowed. Passing memories drifted through the valleys of her soul. Trees of truth grew in those valleys, just outside her door. A million leaves were scattered deep across her bedroom floor.

She was resting there on pillows of moss, lightly tossed to urge the scent. Windows open, the breeze came in and tickled her until she laughed. A fish walked through the open door and spoke to her of things to come. Running through sweet fields of clover, she met her dreams yet to be spun.

Down in the valley she danced to the rhythm of another moonlit night. Waltzing through the land of lyrics, she teased the streams with pure delight. Wandering through the lava fields with flowers growing in her hair, she tiptoed through the evening air, picking dreams once planted there.

Across the valley, the rains subside. The rivers wane and the starlight hides. A misty glow comes to steal the night. Sunlight rises as her dreams take flight.

To My Friend...

"Me down in the lofty bed
As back is feeling like cold lead,
My faithful wife of so many years,
Comforts me best like yester years,
Though she herself is frail & slim,
But her courage is like that of a Hollywood film,
She is the best that I could get,
Otherwise who would take such a bet,
To love a fool of truthful days,
And a being so careless in worldly ways.
I am always thankful to HIM"
HE knows best to run this Realm "

(By: Khan, BA)


__________________­_______

my demon is anger.
it rises and erupts in me;
i’m no longer a quiet, cool ocean,
but a fiery, angry volcano.
my demon escapes when i am weakest.
it wants me to be strong,
to dominate.
to destroy.
to be the best.
my demon is my curse.
it’s a part of me.
it makes me, me,
but i think it’s ugly.
it’s hideous.
i want to put an end to the anger,
but with two small hands
i can’t possibly stop a volcano.