From break of dawn,

  the blazing morn,

  now burns all things away.

  Tell me finch

  and sparrow,

  shall there again

  be this timeless, red calenture?

  These days with fire filled,

  cicada-dreamed,

  a sickness sung and shrilled

  a song whined in the

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  chord of crickets

  and mosquitoes

  feasting anew

  on this fever-wearied blood,

  oppressed by heat

  and the lethargy of these

  slowly passing days,

  Indifferent, I watched

  the westering sun

  consume the earth

  with its god-cursed

  fire,

  and considered myself

  damned,

  like every other soul

  in hell.