Suffering permeates the gaps between worlds
           Know: this earth will not forgive you.

Fall to your knees and beg,
But know:
            This earth shall never forgive you.

Pray to your gods,
That the future may have mercy,
              Have mercy, oh divine creatures, have mercy.

Fall to your knees and beg,
Cracks unfolded by time,
              Your cruelty unseen, unchecked.

Suffering permeates the gaps you sealed shut:
You cannot pray to your gods.
              You cannot beg any longer.

The pain wrought by your devastating blows.
              This earth cannot forgive you.

The boulder falls further each time, indents deeper and cries out just that bit harder.
We pray to gods and speak to stars,
give me my wants so they may be my needs.
It is a never-ending promise of bittersweet touch, of fresh mints on a rainy day, of steam from the oven with freshly baked bread.
The want is purple I think. It changes sometimes. But it sparks and shudders and curls in the wind.
Flags are drawn, the want is purple bruises under weary eyes.
I want to scream into the earth. I want to curl up and forget. I want to not want anymore.
Maybe I need, but who can know? We are none the wiser.
We will never know, because we want to know.
But oh dear one, we strive and live and love only for the want. It is power coursing through veins.
We hate the want.
The want is a curse, it is a weight. it is the drop.
The long hard fall.
The heartache, the loneliness, the sadness and fear.
It is all those things.

And the want will shrivel up, it will die and its ashes will float away
And we may curl up and rest upon concrete floors forever now.
See? That is the problem itself. The problem is the answer and the answer is the want.
Curses and blasphemy.
We curl up and rest on those concrete floors forever now for that one moment of pure ecstatic bliss.

See?

I found the butterfly, dead on the ground, where you had seen it yesterday. When it had the courage to soar through your fingers. Where it had fluttered its paper wings (I was too afraid of its beauty). Today, it lay stiff and fragile on the hard ground, scattered amongst dead leaves and patches of crumbling tar.