Poetry - Bubbling Couldron

The grass grows cleanly and peacefully
Ponys dance and prance between picket fences
Childrens' smiling faces
Innocence unknowing what lies below
Beneath our feet, shadows play, and change shape
I fling open the dark door, and step into the heat fearlessly
Ghouls and goblins slink across red flames, in dervish frenzy
I spot an angel in the corner dancing with a demon
Whistles, laughter, high pitched music
An old man rests in waiting, expressionless face
Waterfalls of red, black endless depths
A dark hooded creature stirs the giant pot, smiling with all knowing
Welcome home, some cry
Do you hate us all, others shout
We're always with you, to lend a guiding hand, yet you give us no due, they lament
In the fire I see them all, past present and future
Faces of the familiar blur and hide behind distortions
Sadness and joy, grief and acceptance, fear and courage
They poke and prod toward the roof, yearning to be set free
I wander calmly among them, eyes wide open
For a few minutes I dance, but this world is not permanent
I have to attend to important matters I tell them, as I rise to the surface
I nod at them, and leave them, to warm the land I daily tend
The lawn must be kept as regulations indicate

Blue skies and picket fences, the kingdom of the dead, and death is salvation