The image I’m trying to conjure in your head is that of a celestial being which ravages little amber fireflies. The red deity could be an oppressor, a sinner, a horrid animal, a cancer or, in my case, The Branch Destroyer.
The Branch Destroyer preys on twittering teeters. The teeters tweet their tootsy songs and occasionally bellow like ranch dogs. The Branch Destroyer rampages the universe with his horde of angry oxen. He seeks out trees with little tweeters in them. He snaps the branches and he scrapes the bark. He stomps on leaves till their sap flows free. Then he rages and ferociously fires up the tree. The tree turns to ember and the amber glow scorches his sinning soul. The sapling is tortured and withdraws into the void.
The scalded tweeter … it tweets still
The oxen drowned it in a pool … it tweets still
The tweeter was slowly smothered … it tweets still
The Destroyer held up the devil’s horns. Bloodshot, they hung over the cowering fireflies. In a display of malice he swipes out at them. The trembling fireflies, hastily they flee.
And the amber glow diminishes, impotent in the face of such mindless fury.