Hour Fifteen: Fire and gods

Winter weeps dangerous daggers,

A hawk hurls down howling with talons out,

piercing me to the core

Or maybe they’re ravens,

just missing my eyes,


Thinking I was Prometheus

Bringing tongues of fire


From the gods

Sharing the sacred mysteries

That save and destroy

Burning off the frigid winds

And choking back the night


Or maybe Daedalus

Flying on the wings of morning

Aiming for the sun

A babbling tower

Pointed towards paradise


At the center of hell, I have read,

Satan sits in a block of ice,

his wings whipping up a chilling breeze.


Children should not face paradoxes so young

How can they understand

The truth of fire

that Lucifer is a morning star

that looking too long at light can blind.


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