Lashing out at the rage,
The cause of the breakup but it is too late to wake up
Because she is already a goner breath.
The bid for resurrecting a carcass united with the sand to feed on a plant is a ruin.
So let it be.
Let it be.
Someway somehow when the inner waters begins to boil in any season
This shall be the soil to visit for lesson in history.
Let not the rings of its trees remind you years spent cooking stones because of your urge to boil.
Let this be awakening, wounded lion.