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I will bring fire to thee.

Euripides.—’Androm’.

‘Eiros’.

Why do you call me Eiros?

‘Charmion’.

So henceforward will you always be called. You must forget,
too, my earthly name, and speak to me as Charmion.

‘Eiros’.

This is indeed no dream!

‘Charmion’.

Dreams are with us no more;—but of these mysteries
anon. I rejoice to see you looking life-like and rational.
The film of the shadow has already passed from off your
eyes. Be of heart, and fear nothing. Your allotted days of
stupor have expired, and to-morrow I will myself induct you
into the full joys and wonders of your novel existence.

‘Eiros’.

True—I feel no stupor—none at all. The wild
sickness and the terrible darkness have left me, and I hear
no longer that mad, rushing, horrible sound, like the “voice
of many waters.” Yet my senses are bewildered, Charmion,
with the keenness of their perception of the new.

‘Charmion’.

A few days will remove all this;—but I fully
understand you, and feel for you. It is now ten earthly
years since I underwent what you undergo—yet the
remembrance of it hangs by me still. You have now suffered
all of pain, however, which you will suffer in Aidenn.

‘Eiros’.

In Aidenn?

‘Charmion’.

In Aidenn.

‘Eiros’.

O God!—pity me, Charmion!—I am overburthened
with the majesty of all things—of the unknown now
known—of the speculative Future merged in the august
and certain Present.

‘Charmion’.

Grapple not now with such thoughts. To-morrow we will speak
of this. Your mind wavers, and its agitation will find
relief in the exercise of simple memories. Look not around,
nor forward—but back. I am burning with anxiety to
hear the details of that stupendous event which threw you
among us. Tell me of it. Let us converse of familiar things,
in the old familiar language of the world which has so
fearfully perished.

‘Eiros’.

Most fearfully, fearfully!—this is indeed no dream.

‘Charmion’.

Dreams are no more. Was I much mourned, my Eiros?

‘Eiros’.

Mourned, Charmion?—oh, deeply. To that last hour of
all there hung a cloud of intense gloom and devout sorrow
over your household.

‘Charmion’.

And that last hour—speak of it. Remember that, beyond
the naked fact of the catastrophe itself, I know nothing.
When, coming out from among mankind, I passed into Night
through the Grave—at that period, if I remember
aright, the calamity which overwhelmed you was utterly
unanticipated. But, indeed, I knew little of the speculative
philosophy of the day.

‘Eiros’.

The individual calamity was, as you say, entirely
unanticipated; but analogous misfortunes had been long a
subject of discussion with astronomers. I need scarce tell
you, my friend, that, even when you left us, men had agreed
to understand those passages in the most holy writings which
speak of the final destruction of all things by fire as
having reference to the orb of the earth alone, But in
regard to the immediate agency of the ruin, speculation had
been at fault from that epoch in astronomical knowledge in
which the comets were divested of the terrors of flame. The
very moderate density of these bodies had been well
established. They had been observed to pass among the
satellites of Jupiter without bringing about any sensible
alteration either in the masses or in the orbits of these
secondary planets. We had long regarded the wanderers as
vapory creations of inconceivable tenuity, and as altogether
incapable of doing injury to our substantial globe, even in
the event of contact. But contact was not in any degree
dreaded; for the elements of all the comets were accurately
known. That among them we should look for the agency
of the threatened fiery destruction had been for many years
considered an inadmissible idea. But wonders and wild
fancies had been of late days strangely rife among mankind;
and, although it was only with a few of the ignorant that
actual apprehension prevailed, upon the announcement by
astronomers of a new comet, yet this announcement was
generally received with I know not what of agitation and
mistrust.

The elements of the strange orb were immediately calculated,
and it was at once conceded by all observers that its path,
at perihelion would bring it into very close proximity with
the earth. There were two or three astronomers of secondary
note who resolutely maintained that a contact was
inevitable. I cannot very well express to you the effect of
this intelligence upon the people. For a few short days they
would not believe an assertion which their intellect, so
long employed among worldly considerations, could not in any
manner grasp. But the truth of a vitally important fact soon
makes its way into the understanding of even the most
stolid. Finally, all men saw that astronomical knowledge
lies not, and they awaited the comet. Its approach was not
at first seemingly rapid, nor was its appearance of very
unusual character. It was of a dull red, and had little
perceptible train. For seven or eight days we saw no
material increase in its apparent diameter, and but a
partial alteration in its color. Meantime, the ordinary
affairs of men were discarded, and all interest absorbed in
a growing discussion instituted by the philosophic in
respect to the cometary nature. Even the grossly ignorant
aroused their sluggish capacities to such considerations.
The learned now gave their intellect—their
soul—to no such points as the allaying of fear, or to
the sustenance of loved theory. They sought—they
panted for right views. They groaned for perfected
knowledge. Truth arose in the purity of her strength
and exceeding majesty, and the wise bowed down and adored.

That material injury to our globe or to its inhabitants
would result from the apprehended contact was an opinion
which hourly lost ground among the wise; and the wise were
now freely permitted to rule the reason and the fancy of the
crowd. It was demonstrated that the density of the comet’s
nucleus was far less than that of our rarest gas; and
the harmless passage of a similar visitor among the
satellites of Jupiter was a point strongly insisted upon,
and which served greatly to allay terror. Theologists, with
an earnestness fear-enkindled, dwelt upon the biblical
prophecies, and expounded them to the people with a
directness and simplicity of which no previous instance had
been known. That the final destruction of the earth must be
brought about by the agency of fire, was urged with a spirit
that enforced everywhere conviction; and that the comets
were of no fiery nature (as all men now knew) was a truth
which relieved all, in a great measure, from the
apprehension of the great calamity foretold. It is
noticeable that the popular prejudices and ****** errors in
regard to pestilences and wars—errors which were wont
to prevail upon every appearance of a comet—were now
altogether unknown, as if by some sudden convulsive exertion
reason had at once hurled superstition from her throne. The
feeblest intellect had derived vigor from excessive
interest.

What minor evils might arise from the contact were points of
elaborate question. The learned spoke of slight geological
disturbances, of probable alterations in climate, and
consequently in vegetation; of possible magnetic and
electric influences. Many held that no visible or
perceptible effect would in any manner be produced. While
such discussions were going on, their subject gradually
approached, growing larger in apparent diameter, and of a
more brilliant lustre. Mankind grew paler as it came. All
human operations were suspended.

There was an epoch in the course of the general sentiment
when the comet had attained, at length, a size surpassing
that of any previously recorded visitation. The people now,
dismissing any lingering hope that the astronomers were
wrong, experienced all the certainty of evil. The chimerical
aspect of their terror was gone. The hearts of the stoutest
of our race beat violently within their bosoms. A very few
days suffered, however, to merge even such feelings in
sentiments more unendurable. We could no longer apply to the
strange orb any accustomed thoughts. Its
historical attributes had disappeared. It oppressed us
with a hideous novelty of emotion. We saw it not as
an astronomical phenomenon in the heavens, but as an incubus
upon our hearts and a shadow upon our brains. It had taken,
with unconceivable rapidity, the character of a gigantic
mantle of rare flame, extending from horizon to horizon.

Yet a day, and men breathed with greater freedom. It was
clear that we were already within the influence of the
comet; yet we lived. We even felt an unusual elasticity of
frame and vivacity of mind. The exceeding tenuity of the
object of our dread was apparent; for all heavenly objects
were plainly visible through it. Meantime, our vegetation
had perceptibly altered; and we gained faith, from this
predicted circumstance, in the foresight of the wise. A wild
luxuriance of foliage, utterly unknown before, burst out
upon every vegetable thing.

Yet another day—and the evil was not altogether upon
us. It was now evident that its nucleus would first reach
us. A wild change had come over all men; and the first sense
of pain was the wild signal for general lamentation
and horror. The first sense of pain lay in a rigorous
construction of the breast and lungs, and an insufferable
dryness of the skin. It could not be denied that our
atmosphere was radically affected; the conformation of this
atmosphere and the possible modifications to which it might
be subjected, were now the topics of discussion. The result
of investigation sent an electric thrill of the intensest
terror through the universal heart of man.

It had been long known that the air which encircled us was a
compound of oxygen and nitrogen gases, in the proportion of
twenty-one measures of oxygen and seventy-nine of nitrogen
in every one hundred of the atmosphere. Oxygen, which was
the principle of combustion, and the vehicle of heat, was
absolutely necessary to the support of animal life, and was
the most powerful and energetic agent in nature. Nitrogen,
on the contrary, was incapable of supporting either animal
life or flame. An unnatural excess of oxygen would result,
it had been ascertained, in just such an elevation of the
animal spirits as we had latterly experienced. It was the
pursuit, the extension of the idea, which had engendered
awe. What would be the result of a total extraction of
the nitrogen? A combustion irresistible, all-devouring,
omni-prevalent, immediate;—the entire fulfilment, in
all their minute and terrible details, of the fiery and
horror-inspiring denunciations of the prophecies of the Holy
Book.

Why need I paint, Charmion, the now disenchained frenzy of
mankind? That tenuity in the comet which had previously
inspired us with hope, was now the source of the bitterness
of despair. In its impalpable gaseous character we clearly
perceived the consummation of Fate. Meantime a day again
passed—bearing away with it the last shadow of Hope.
We gasped in the rapid modification of the air. The red
blood bounded tumultuously through its strict channels. A
furious delirium possessed all men; and with arms rigidly
outstretched towards the threatening heavens, they trembled
and shrieked aloud. But the nucleus of the destroyer was now
upon us;—even here in Aidenn I shudder while I speak.
Let me be brief—brief as the ruin that overwhelmed.
For a moment there was a wild lurid light alone, visiting
and penetrating all things. Then—let us bow down,
Charmion, before the excessive majesty of the great
God!—then, there came a shouting and pervading sound,
as if from the mouth itself of HIM; while the whole
incumbent mass of ether in which we existed, burst at once
into a species of intense flame, for whose surpassing
brilliancy and all-fervid heat even the angels in the high
Heaven of pure knowledge have no name. Thus ended all.
Amanda Fogerty Feb 2013
Have you had a day
where you’re filled with
wild green energy
and you just have to
do something with it
before it hiccups through
your pores and hair?
Today was like that, with mist pulled
around snug, like a silencer on
the world’s nerve to speak.

And the people said the fog was
scary, creepy like a bad horror film,
posted pictures of it online like
some bad 7th grade
party from 3 years ago.
I didn’t see it though,
I was so wrapped up in
my own ****.
Finally I got up and walked
around campus, to walk off
feelings of unrequited infatuation
and restless rejection.

At first all I saw was
murk around bare brown trees
as I imagined skeevy
yellow leers around the corners.
I turned up the pulsing purple
music clenched in my fist
and closed my eyes to block out it all.

After the fifth sappy song
I looked around and smelled
the mist move in,
looked up and watched
the fog fall down,
heard the street lamps buzz hungrily
saw their lights bleed into the haze
like a sluggish future scar.

The fog was so lonely,
so desperate for attention
it was ******* away
a night light’s only defense
against bedtime boogie men.
All the while I had wandered
the mist had been there
wanting me, shielding me from others
craving my breath that tickled it’s
jaded, gray overcast.
The clouds had pulled away
from the heavens to be
with us mere mortals
and all we did was **** them.

I stood for a moment in shame
and let the mist work it’s way
through me hair, gently.
I fished my selfish, pale hands from
my pockets and let the fog
chill them with vapory laugh.
I breathed in more deeply
letting the mist know that I
was sorry that I had not noticed
it sooner.
Not sure how I feel about this one, so tell me what you think.
Ottar Aug 2013
Loose clouds, sink dreams of sunny days and sunny ways,
They are the front runners the fore tellers, driven
before the wind of the next wave of water falling
from the sky and from my eye.

It is a SIGN, It is a SIGN, I tell you don't wear a target out
when Scuds are about, It is a sign of bad weather and my doom.
DOOM I say!  Falls fool and Winters wimp, blown in my haggard face!

Seeing Scuds (a loose vapory missile, leading the bad weather)
at my doorsteps, dampening my foot falls, scud after scud,
more bad weather, dark clouds, I bend into the wind
head down so I won't drown and the Scuds can't see my eyes,

That I have given up, hide oh hooded head
and given in, I use my umbrella to hide behind,
will I or it survive the wind?
until spring rings in, with summer.
.
Ksjpari Apr 2018
The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Such egoistic heads tell not to worry
And at our back talk oscillatory
Bad about us, creating a crematory
Where they bury their own glory.
They have a bad attitude of sanatory
Coward, showy, deceitful, predatory.

The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
I too had such a mad hoary
Who was ready with an itinerary,
Where all bad & deceit come corollary
As she had a base habit of obfuscatory.
She knew less concepts contemporary
And thought herself vital primary.

The world is full of fools’ theory
Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if I hunky-dory?
We knew those emotions were vapory –
Happy, then sad, angry then nugatory!
Her emotions changed as witch’s allegory,
Hate, spurn, prune are her favourite mandatory:  
Now singly fights with colleagues hortatory;
Alas! Does not know her faults & category.

Listening to them I feel weary.
Would always ask if hunky-dory?
At first I tried to be a promontory
So that I can save her crematory;
Blind with pride, less corroboratory,
She spurned me having derogatory.
Now also I pity her as she is a hoary
But wish she improves her oratory.
Welcome to my collection of Monorhymes named “Pari Style Poems” where you can see creativity, innovation and literary devices used. Hope readers and viewers like it.
Blake Aug 2017
You think you're the victim,.
Such a fantasy, please make a schism,.
Match by match,.
You found a way to detach,.
Drip by vapory drip,.
The gasoline that drops from your lip,.
As you speak your words for hire,.
Your volatile saliva splashes onto the pyre,.
Where you tied me down when four words were shared,.
This seems to be the only way to show you care,.
I plea to you, I question you why,.
Do you feel the necessity to let us die,.
You tell me to be patient as my soul burns,.
Preparing a feast out of me for the worms,.
Every excuse you can make,.
For me to bleed fire on the stake..,.,.,
Anderson M Jun 2017
Edifices of a peculiar grandeur
These I build in the air
During moments when I’m
In absolute quietude.
Breathing slowly
So my lungs can fully savor
The tastefulness of each air molecule.
Then puff! they’re gone
Vapory mists in a torrid atmosphere.
#daydreams #fanciful ideas...colorful butterflies skittering past the mind's eye.
Breanna Lowney Jun 2020
As we sit here and strain our brains
Imagining, how could such inane things
Be defined, as anything other than profane
Could it be I'm just insane, or
Are the details only but a distant memory
Traces of strange faces
Faint images of kinfolk, who joke
An old trace of what's unseen by thee
Estranged behind the smoke
Take it in then make it float
And now they're awoke
Weather welcomed or snook in
No matter if they mock or mope
They maintain the design
Between an invisible line
Called what they let us see
And what we spoke
How astonishingly wicked it may seem to be, to recognize such hard to explain queries
Transmitted from one form to the next
Disintegrate, then reshape and rise as planned
Organized thoughts followed by polluted fog
As it settles in the middle looking back at us
Either their sinister or they giggle
as we gaze into their crystal ball of vapory expressions
Process of breakdown tries to take you down
With impossibilities hard to even speak about
Safe to say we all agree to keep it in order
Leave it be so recovery won't need to be
One two three, therefore you see
This design ranks mighty high somewhat like glee
Major factor in this, isn't the higher I get
It's as I inhale each hit I am being equipped with heightened senses Relentless against outside interference
Considering element of time restraint
Likely to influence hindrance on today's to do list
Which will warrant such mental analysis Wit thought intelligence, hah
Being is such a mere fragment of life
Inside imagination, any privileged would and will see eye to eye while undercover Patiently waiting for the perfect exit, or is it entrance
Be it coming or leaving its a secret
Shh.. please aint no repeating this
Yes you're on the guest list
And I suggest you stay in line
There is no set order, in which we smolder
To set trapped souls free as we breathe

Breeze May
Jennifer Faris Nov 2020
Glistening swallows,

tentatively darting, through

silvery mists and mysterious yearnings.

Past golden clouds of vapory dreams,

through faceted colors and rainbows of leaves.

With teardrops of tune on the winds of a prayer,

with sunbeam and moonglow alive in the air,

they flit and they frolic and then they are gone,

ardent wisps of the burning remembrance of song

floating down like the white holy ashes of grace

till they settle like dew on the weeping earth’s face.

The whole world goes to sleep

and the songbirds, they fly

on a velvety sonnet

into beckoning night.

— The End —