black trees, grey rivers, ash mountains;

molten buildings, skulled cars, silent towns.

Can only see a country burned into the shape

of words

both beautiful and terrible

– beautiful

being the harmony of voices

that are people and places

– terrible

being the dissonant roar

that is the call of wild fire.

And some words have never been heard before.

And some words can never be heard again.

And some words must never be heard again.