volcanicus

The scarlet, scorching indignation for her had been planted far within his stomach.

He had fertilized it well, for its roots grew rapidly and wound so tightly around his entrails that what came forth boiled over and spat out at her. The torrential eruption burst forth by volcanic design, sending fragmented tuff and ignimbrite in every direction. His magmatic speech lurched at her, spurting its searing venom at her, leaving only abrasion and blight left.

Passion he had called it: but whose surname was wickedness.

He impersonated love through destruction, leaving her a heap of charred ash.

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- A.D.