A Symbol of Beauty and Power

A perfect cone, a painter's dream, a flawless symmetry, rising from the fertile plains. Smoke, a delicate plume, a whisper of the earth's deep breath, a constant reminder, of the fire that sleeps within, a beauty laced with danger. Legends woven, around its slopes, of lovers' quarrels, of kings' fiery tears, a story etched in ash and stone. The sun, a golden eye, catches the peak's sharp edge, casting long shadows, across the rice fields below, a silent watchful presence. Clouds, like restless spirits, cling to its summit, veiling and revealing, the mountain's shifting face, a dance of light and shadow. Fertile soil, a paradox, nourished by volcanic ash, life springing from destruction, a testament to resilience, a fragile vibrant green. Mayon, a silent sentinel, a symbol of both beauty and power, a reminder of the earth's raw force, a perfect form, holding a volatile heart. ©bfa040325