III: a Steady Descent Into The Soil

Death

Atlast we meet

With familial embraces

Old friend we have

Skirted paths

For far too long

Its time

For these years of suffering

To wither and weap

Its time you know

Just how cruel

This world’s become

There is

No place for me

Amongst the hordes of hate and hurt

Everyone’s a threat

And every fear

Has been proven real

You speak

It’ll comes in waves, the nausea

And though your bones may splinter and break

I will become your eyelids

So I may bring

You some reprieve

Take my organs

Take my blood flow

Strip the flesh

From my brittle broken bones

As the tides rise

As the wind dies

As the earth spins

We account for nothing

The new growth cast out

The old leaves

As the ground

Consumes our bodies

I’ve always known

I was born to

Become one

With the soil