Time hangs from your skeleton limbs
It rocks back and forth
Like a pendulum.
Life and Death's momentum,
Swinging to Her vibrations
Our Mother's sadness and elation
Her hate and adoration.
Take this decay as a creation,
Our bones are aging to perfection;
A fine selection of dust to spread
From toes to head,
To nurture and neglect
Her children who cry and beg.
Their suffering will end
As we return to fertile dirt
And let our souls be absorbed,
By the womb we once adored.

-SLuR