From the mountain of the west
where the sun has set so oft’
a pyre alights the frightened night
with a growling high aloft.

With Sulki’s hand too tight,
and mine on Ravi’s tail
we stumbled through the dead of night
to a siren’s mournful wail.

The ground she shook so much
with the waters on the shore
we scrambled onto higher ground
as the waves came in for more.

I shivered on the rocks
as fiery bombs explode
Ravi licks my face and whines
while the lava eats the road

The mountain says he’s king
he shouts through out the night
his mantle falls in smoking swirls
of bone meal plaster white

When the sun awakes at last
and the sea breeze comes to giving
the mountain goes to sleep again
and our village counts the living