Deep beneath the cracked crust of a forgotten world,
where magma whispers through stone veins,
an inky miasma soared from the dry black crust.
As the basalt burned to ashes.
Nothing left behind,
The magma beneath,
a ruthless urge to consume,
ruled over the lands.
Landscape covered in grand obsidian spikes
reaching far into the pitch-black sky.
Completely covered by the embers
of the burning slates.
The polish now dulled by time.
A veil of blackned mist cloaked the heavens,
fuming from the burning lava.
The surface of a wasteland completely barren,
no soul able to touch
the burning hot surface.
The remnants of moisture,
has but evaporated,
swallowed by the thirst of the flame
as if it never existed in the first place.
Flames burning endlessly consuming at the embers,
falling into the molten rock.
Never to be seen again as only a steam blows,
its soul evaporates joining the grieving souls,
floating in the dark aether,
trapping them,
in an eternal inferno of
a constant burning agony.
Forever ignorant of what lies
underneath the expanse of molten heat.
Below the charcoal tinted embers floating in the sky,
a colossal volcano erupted molten rock flying out,
the embers feeding into the sanctuary full of souls
belonging to past basalt and lapis obscura.
A mediating hum echoes,
as lava flowed across the sharp dunes of black-stone,
spanning across for as far the eye could see.
The gaze trapped
in the endless landscapes of
black-stone dunes
and the grand obsidian spikes.
Till the very edge of the horizon,
all that remained visible
was the crimson light fog.
Deep into the crimson tinted pools of lava,
deep from the surface,
where magma grew hotter,
and hotter,
it keeps on boiling
no soul could triumph the boiling temperatures,
it kept on burning,
the flames heated red,
even the hardest of metals instantly evaporated,
by its immense heat,
every peace of matter,
found in these enormous depths.
Turned to plasma,
burning everything the fingers
of the flame touched.
Descending deeper,
the very plasma devoured,
atoms dissolved,
purely a dark crimson void.
predominantly the embers floated,
remnants of the plasma that once flowed,
instantly vaporised into…..
…..nothingness.
Grasping at the roots,
the temperature searing,
radiance of the color ingested,
feasted upon the light,
alongside the burning embers.
Streching into the shadows unable to be seen,
the color black itself,
the very color of the void melted.
the void drank deep the darkness.
Gnawed every sound echoing.
Supped on the very silence itself.
Delving into the core of the infernal void,
ingested the very concept of a temperature,
temperature itself instantly vaporised.
The number so high it breaks the very scale,
that seeks to measure it.
The very concept of a number…
…vaporised.
How might one advance?
When one was bitten by the shadowy hands.
In the very stellar core of the plasmic heat,
not even words that describe it endure.
The heat feasted upon the very words that attempt to conceive of it.
It is but a thermal abyss deep, indescribable,
inconceivable to no logos nor intellect
The heat burned so deep under the cosmic furnace,
it is a futile attempt to describe the heat.
For anyone dwelling on it for too long, will…
….be erased themselves. The wrath of the primordial singularity
completely gluttoned by its sharp flaming teeth.
Idea of heat, vaporised itself,
The heat-death heart core lies deep.
At last it has glutted on the realm it exists in,
like a starving god,
ate the light,
drank the dark,
engorged upon creation with ravenous breath,
it has feasted upon the very being itself.