Volcano

Deep beneath the world, it's mantle,
Covering a metallic core,
Hides what could become the shrapnel
Streams of molten, volcanic gore.

Underneath a salty, sea floor,
The wounded crust erupts from cuts
That have begun to seep somewhat
Into the blue above. There, it bleeds
A brazen rouge—bubbling and freed
From an abyss that's fissured shut.

The water boils as heat rises
To nurture nature's sunken seed.