Billowing Purple Fire
apocalyptic abrasions tear
across earth and sea and sky
crepuscular beast of no moon
reveals and unreveals
ambiguous forms of vapor
from crack and crevice emergant
close-mouthed apparition appears
forever and ever
nose breathing
billowing purple fire
rancid breaths from open mouths breathing hell
exhale insidious tar-storm, mordant flame,
red fangs in the brume funereal protrude
beneath shimmering eyes judgemental
from fire-gale the deadly vortex forms
consciousness rapidly oxidates
in the immediate surroundings
of this revelatory conflagration
billowing purple fire
velvet and brimstone,
a crown and a wreath
to the lava-throne
where upon
a fire god sits
the true god
"The firestorm is incredible, there are calls for help and screams from somewhere
but all around is one single inferno.
To my left I suddenly see a woman."
"I can see her to this day and shall never forget it.
She carries a bundle in her arms, it is her baby.
She runs, she falls, and the child flies in an arc into the fire….
Insane fear grips me and from then on I repeat one simple sentence to myself, ‘I don’t want to burn to death’"
- Margaret Freyer,
February 1945,
Dresden, Germany.
Copyright © The End Commune | Year Posted 2021
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