What If

What if under the rock-strewn caldera
The lava still burns, filling a medievalist’s hell
What if under the snow-capped crest
The lava still flames, ready for a witch’s cauldron
What if under the time-leveled slope
The lava still runs, purpose to an alchemist’s dream
What if under the new-sprung green
The lava still chokes, hammer to a blacksmith’s anvil
What if under the peace that passes understanding
The lava still smothers, doubt to a believer’s faith

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