Plight

He had drawn closer
To what was a triangle rearing from the ground,
Enveloped in cinders, roaring, cackling ,
A silently sinister mound.

No one knew when resting that,
One steer tentatively forward,
And the confident charity of a man,
Headed him to deathly fate.

Whispers lit like candle flames themselves
When fear stood eyelashes on edge , 
Elicited from a burning rage-filled spark ,
Dark images of burning villages flickered, etching their mark.

It was suggested he retreat, 
My uncle and sleep silently ,
Deep like his comforted friend.
Breathing in they breathed,
Toxicity in, and out, again.

That the mighty sea itself would and did warily retire, 
Was perhaps a warning ,
Not to walk to shallow shores,
Where death comes with dawning . 

They lay frozen and still , 
Shy of listening to the Earth’s 
pulling itself from ripping claw’s grasp, 
Giving its thunderous crackling roar. 

Fortune favoured the brave , 
And Stars were brighter against the dark sky, 
Mount Vesuvius saw my uncle
Reach, No turning back.

He woken with brazen eyes, 
And with,
a sip of water ,
The smell of sulphur, 
burning in throat. 

The volcano exploded,
the heat of Elder caring, 
Inflamed the great daring
white bone skeleton 
At a time where day seemed like night, 
Into a burning ball of light.