The City of Magma

I have seen many anomalies in my travels,

But none so mysterious as the town lying atop a mountain.

When I first visited, it was but a small village;

The citizens humble and content.

They took only what they needed -

There were areas for gathering stones and logs

To build houses and stores, farms and mills -

For the people were content with survival alone.

Forty years later, I was there again.

The village had grown - what was now maybe ninety people

Had grown into a community of around three thousand

With souvenir shops everywhere, for the City of Magma.

The people had made a discovery;

One that would change their course forever.

Their city lied not on an average mountain,

But right below the top of a volcano.

They were taking all that they could -

There were giant machinations cracking the ground,

Vehicles chopping and replanting trees en masse -

Yet what they did not need was thrown into the magma in the volcano.

Nobody there saw what was coming;

For they had caused their own fall.

As they cleared the land, and wasted more,

The magma rose higher each day.

I had been leaving when it happened;

The city burst into flames - each house and shop, farm and mill -

And yet the flames grew brighter still.

They had reached a point where they had so little time to prepare;

And they failed to protect themselves.

As the lava spread across the land,

Although I was safe from its burning hand -

I looked back towards the city - and yet, it seemed not there at all.