Overgrowth across your face
there's newness in the veins.
machinery has dragged away
your features....
Undecayed, sleep underneath
the leaves and age
cocooned- from those who walk, with those die
they all forgot...
the preachers, safe from sacred
weld breath into coins- some printed with your lips
and some with eyes.
your skin was taken as the ants carry the trees.
Now firmly empty, watching skies
remain in groves left lost for greed.
dear ancients, pity me.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 6:19 PM UTC
Overgrowth across your face
there's newness in the veins.
machinery has dragged away
your features....
Undecayed, sleep underneath
the leaves and age
cocooned- from those who walk, with those die
they all forgot...
the preachers, safe from sacred
weld breath into coins- some printed with your lips
and some with eyes.
your skin was taken as the ants carry the trees.
Now firmly empty, watching skies
remain in groves left lost for greed.
dear ancients, pity me.
