thincanacha
@thincanacha
Beneath the blistered knuckles of volcano sleeps fire curled like scripture. Ash sifts down, hushed as prayer. Touching stone, I feel fury kneading silence into molten gospel, and I think: even rage learns psalms before it kneels to burn.
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toidaybanoi
@qiday
That storm hymn shredded dusk into ribbons.
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