Stone Cold Sober

I Ij

The world we see is but a shiny surface
Perhaps to shield us from a fiery furnace.

Yet rip the veil, you'll see a fire burning
Consuming you and all the world before it
The quaking air is like a gyre turning
Tornado winds so strong none stand before it
Dark smoke and ashes pose a dire warning
The demons dance a dirge as they adore it
In time to wailing angel's lyres yearning.
A tune so awful nothing can atone it.

Peer deep into the funeral pyre's churning
Perchance to pierce symbolic higher learning.