Index 
Ode To Carbon
I wonder if anyone here will Urania hear and follow her musings below, about a devil we fear, unseen that lurks in the air. The imp now is carbon, it seems, belched from fires of hell; freed to roam in the air, she snatches life-giving breath. Twelve disciples from hell sound the knell for a wedding with forty-four life-giving queens. These demons absorb Helios warmth, expired after Gaia’s fill while the disciples from hell gracefully let it pass. Excited by fire, demons dance free, disturbing the peace of the gas; diffusing the fire, passing it on, air soon settles anew. But the demons aren’t through, they’re still in the stew, keeping us warmer at night. For those devils it seems, are angels as well bequeathed as Promethean fire. Some say that’s wrong, some say that’s right, But the fates take theirs and don’t care. We see the gloom. We fear the doom; While basking in the warmth of the fire. |