The Descent

Waking in the moment
that these torches rise, high east.
The chalky beams find their way
this wave spills upon me.

The walls' black seams have split
each wave moves an ocean.
Crests of glitter and heat
craters drenched with humid glory.

I watch the patchwork of before
threads strewn across the ocean floor.
Twisting and splitting- eaten by light
red fills empty spaces.

What was lush is black with ash
covert hate, unveiled in red.
Taken by swift darkness
man is whence he came.