Volcano (the early years: before 1972)
In the seething bowels of the earth,
the liquid fire glows.
It reeks a red and yellow tone
of molten earth and mellowed stone.
Deep within the placid ground
this monster builds its flames around;
it sings a tune that men do fear,
a bellowed groan and cracking sphere.
The ground writhes, and rants, and pounds,
Earth is scorched by seeping fire,
all that is this stuff desires;
and men cannot but flee its mire.
All his might cannot this hold
for nature holds the final control.
He claims to be the power on Earth
but not this day, this time, this mirth.
He claims the Devil does abode
and this his wrath man does behold;
perhaps, indeed this be true,
man’s wildest dreams to him be true,
but to the simple searching mind,
of which there are too few to find,
this monstrous fire cannot but be,
Nature’s scorn on the likes of thee.