We speak in kindled words
And pyre shrugs
Every silence to be broken
With black, charred lungs
And smoldered tongues.

Plume of gas and dust
Flash of light and energy...
Thus burst the pillars
Who birthed luminosity.

…And I became a ghost
My only goal to haunt you through
Whispers of smoldered coals,
Far beyond the boundaries
Of foreign tongue,
Exhaled from deep within
The mountain’s lungs…

Twixt our crossed fingers held
A silver lining not beheld
And between golden fleets of stars
The black space that keeps them apart.

Even with the Sun at noon most high
It too, lays down its glowing breast to die
And with its last breath
Smolders, the cinders red.