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