Nothing speaks of death
like Pompeii’s volcanic blast
with no place to hide

a hellish blight of
pyroclastic flow moved fast
enveloping all

a hot scorching end
vaporizing rich and poor
inhaling fire

Plaster filled the voids
of hollow spaces buried
revealing people

this, their legacy
I first saw in my childhood
a life long haunting

Seeing these figures
showing what it is to die
in darkness, alone

And without trying
their consciousness became ours
aware of death coming

Forever caught in
their most intimate moment
taking their last breath

we are who we are
Dancing on a fireball
living on the edge