The heat that rises
Off the terracotta shores
Ruptures the land
And the calm held before.
The burnt, reddish hue
Stains shadows on the sky
That distort the horizon
And illuminate the night.
Still, the fire only burns
And reduces to cinders
The decayed hollow life
Of dried root and timber.
And all that remains
Upon the first coming dawn
Are the seas murky depths
On it's return to the shore.
So scorch the earth
With arrogance and pride
Rejoice in your freedom
'til the turning of the tide.
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