The Blob

What sort of ears must I possess
To hear iron's plummeting knell?
Which degree makes a molten mess
When meteors are sent to hell?
To think thin air will make stones burn
Like souls sent to lower levels.
What kind of thing is that to learn
By means of church or gay revels?
But the comparison is apt
For so many souls are stony
And some, that too often adapt,
Run the risk of being phony.
Odd, I think, for these things to roast
But shape shifting stones I fear the most!