Fire cleansed the world in those days. Fire destroyed, and Fire gave birth. It tore across the landscape, heaven and the angels' light in violent disguise. Masked in death and cloaked in fear and hatred, the Fires would live on. One day, while men would never forget what had been done, all of life is meant to survive; the peoples of the world would never forget what the Fires had done, but many would learn to forgive.
Remembering is easy. Forgiveness is hard.
And then would come the days when even Kalisin's Light would no longer shelter the Fires he once led. All things will come to an end sooner or later, and even the brightest of flames burn out with time.
The Great Kingdom would forever remain though. A wound on the world that would become a scar, and heal over time; some would call it a blight, and others would call it life, and others still might not even care. The Fires had come, and they would never leave.
A new light had come to Tolima. A new life; that much could never be denied. Even by the staunchest of rebels.
YOU ARE READING
Inferno
PoetryA three-part prose poem from my upcoming novel. I need a little bit of help finding any flaws in these poems. They don't necessarily have the exact same rhythm dynamic, but all surround the same subject matter; sentient fire.
