Ash cloud

She screamed
A scream of fragmented
And vowed
To the obsidian star
That her ashes
Will be gathered

Her lava
Will be sustained

As if her crimson eruption
Had never happened
As if his nuclear hands
Had never touched her.

An echo came back
Altering the porcelain
Of the night
And left her
If those burnt hair
Would help her
Sleep tight

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