No you don’t understand;
The horror is not what I describe
In this poem; there’s nothing to fear
In what I describe. We are the horror. The horror is here.
The flames are not coming for us;
We are the flames. What you are reading is burning.
There is smoke. There isn’t any learning.
There is heat, which you cannot escape.
It is burning burning burning.
Pack your bags. They are on fire.
This poem and your eyes are the combined flame
Of everything. Nothing is the same.
This is your desire.