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Like a rising ball of magma

Few can see it coming
But oh yes it will come
Like a rising ball of magma
As hot as the burning sun

Through the rock it is pushing
Building, rising every day
Maybe you cannot see it
Maybe you hope it will go away

But oh yes it is coming
See the fissures in the land
Boiling clefts of dissent
Talk of which is banned

Whispers, quiet whispers
Hush now, the powers come
“Stop the wicked words,” they say
“Back to your mental slum.”

But the searing heat is growing
And the earth begins to heave
“Fingers in your ears,” they say
“Here's what you must believe.”

 

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