Love, my territory of kisses and volcanoes.

Off the Santorini cliff on a dark, starless night, I tossed a message in a bottle and love found me washed up on the black lava sand of the Aegean shore. As with my previous loves, volcanic in nature. Almost destructive before it started.

My volcano of compress anger was about to erupt in school, and it would take more than five years for my molten lava to be brought under control, which was through the loss of my sight. However, shouldn’t there be a way of detecting and reaching out to kids like me before there is a massive problem? Why wait until there is a devastating eruption before we intervene?

A song she heardOf cold that gathersLike winter's tongueAmong the shadowsIt rose like blacknessIn the skyThat on volcano'sVomit riseA Stone of ruinFrom burn to chillLike black moonriseHer voice fell still...

Lava oozed up from the centre of the crater like blood from a wound. As the flaming lava touched the water it hissed and groaned. She feared she would be boiled alive.

I noticed that volcanoes, earthquakes and floods, though are not good events, they are better than the silence of good people when bad people take the podium. The latter are to an extent uncontrollable, but the former can be stopped.

When I see you smile, I feel a volcano of magical eruptions happening within my heart!

When I see you smile, I feel a volcano of lovely eruptions happening within my heart!

Remind me that the most fertile lands were built by the fires of volcanoes.

The few trees still upright were stripped of their branches, lonely flagpoles without a nation to claim them.