curtain of fire: rapid, continuous artillery or machine-gun fire on a designated line or area.
An odd imagery that caught me brain and vivid waving flames on lace went around. Curtain, like cellar door, is just something that sounds beautiful, if I didn’t know what a curtain was I think I would still like the sound of it, the “mellifluous milieu of sound waves” my inner pretentious self says. To make a nice thing tainted by war and vigorous violence and all that penisy gun shite. As a symbol or visual image it is pretty good; I imagine a light, white curtain engulfed in flames and torn in so many directions but never burnt completely, forever aflame in some back of a scene with emotions high, passion or anger, fear and madness.
First thought was a molestation scene, it’s often more horrible when you pan away and hear the sounds alone, sounds seem more troubling to me. I thought earlier about innocence, that a young soul would be worth more than one which has fused with the dull light, but that innocence is a dream of adults that have seen too much bad. We need the shiny, the cat meows, the baby giggles. The happy sounds remind of the good, not pure as the idea goes, the uplifting ladder in the land of snakes…
-that coil and foil the lot of spoiled
and sinners smoke before they burn
but turn so bright when begin to yearn
and all aflicker and bubble boil
when nights arise and cries travel through
the lighted lamps guide far and few
the flames grow strong
they ravage and burn
as sinners yearn and good may turn