When an rock of igneous views it's genesis, it seeps hot, red blood.

The lava cools in boiling cesspools that form a hellish flood.

Vulcan's mountain pours a fountain and then like plague falls dead.

It covers in ash, it's pride abashed, a world of fiery dread.

The workings of earth in their greatness and girth do act the script of souls.

They dance and spin with our prayers and sin and mirror our evil goals.

Our hearts are stone in the mountain's home where burning magma hides.

And love erupts as lava disrupts the serene peace of our lives.

The forest trees and the seven seas do life in bounty hold

And they tend to scream aloud their dreams of stories still untold.

The spring rebirths the wonders of earth in a glow of soft delight.

As lovers are made in Cherub's tirade with visits in the night.

The fire burns white 'til all is blight and man forgets the cold.

Continents charred and countries scarred if love one does withhold.

Then, like a flash the feelings crash and winter finds its place.

A cruel mistress, frigid, listless, she floats with deadly grace.

Oceans freeze in the costal breeze that chills to the bone.

Her icy grip makes rivers drip and elicits steel's groan.

Tropical Pluto will make you go leave her arctic embrace.

But no vessel flies across the skies to that forsaken place.

What is your choice but to accept her voice which in her rasping tone

Says: "My dear, you must not fear. 'Tis better to be alone."