His presence was a wildfire's might, Leaving scorched earth, and a dreadful night. All who crossed him felt the heat, As Ghastio Cracked Hot, his fury to greet.

In the depths of Ghastio's twisted mind, A furnace raged, a fire left behind. Cracked and worn, his visage gray, He seethed with fury, night and day.

His eyes, like hot coals, glowed bright red, As he cracked his knuckles, a menacing dread. The air around him seemed to writhe, As if it too felt his burning ire and spite.