Boiling Seas

The chilling winds can run as fast
As any frightened sprinter,
And their insufferable bite can last,
Throughout a bitter winter.

The rains cascade through endless storms,
And why? Nobody guesses.
Their cool embrace and fragrance forms
Those gentle spring caresses.

But through the summer comes the heat,
That blasts the lands unending,
And yet that warmth cannot compete,
With what our fate is sending.

The constant, spectral, unseen flames,
Make wheels of fate start turning,
And lands of countless shapes and names,
Descend to hellish burning.

Those wheels of fortune turn as planned,
Once they are set in motion,
For we all know what burns the land,
Will boil every ocean.

A scorching lesson can be learned,
If Man has such desire,
When lands and seas are boiled, burned,
By some incorporeal fire.

The islands sink beneath the waves,
As scalding seas come blasting,
They sink so fast to watered graves,
And darkness everlasting.