I obsess over what it must feel like
to have the earth's veins beneath your feet
roots flowing like a lightning strike
your soil is mother nature's meat

do blades of grass encase your feet
when taking your slice of heaven for granted
pretending the honey doesn't taste as sweet
as the sprouts from the seeds love planted

you wouldn't like the place I dwell
melting skin and bloodied hands
my head is every circle of hell
purgatory hath no sympathy for lambs