CHAPTER THREE (FIRE):
THAT SPARK THAT SHINES IN HER EYES

Now infused with willingness
She vows to achieve the dreadful task
To translate apocalypse in understanding
To bring the final chapter in a blaze

That spark that shines in her eyes
Will lit the cleansing pyre

As she wrote these meaningful litanies
Each stroke of her hand burned the words
Onto an old flaming papyrus
The beginning of the end was revealed

Roaming about in our puny interests
An undefinable beauty appeared to us
Plunged in this supposed orchestrated folding
Are we now, as her horsemen slaves

…a painting of this encounter
Is immortalized in this very book…

Her, pulling flamboyant strings,
We, channeled into devoted marionettes
Together awaiting Destiny, an exquisite necessity

That spark that shines in her eyes
Will lit the cleansing pyre

As the ignition of our minds
Shall allow a dissolution of Utopia
A comforting breath scorching life
Must cauterize the impure wounds

Her eyes, for sure
Are the cornerstones of destiny
In which massive energies
From the universal void of space and time
Are converged…into our world’s last hour