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Jun 2020
Death is to become sunshine,
To break open the self to the world,
In sunwheat gold and peasant hearth,
(The sun is the only empire of peasants)
Every grain of annihilation is still a seed,
And the sunlight carries the sleepless dead,
Their melted voices are warm upon our ears,
The sounds rooted in, but when we do not hear,
No more than the dead worshiping the dead.
Chris Saitta
Written by
Chris Saitta  51/M/Virginia
(51/M/Virginia)   
    1.1k
         Ikimi Festus, ---, ---, Emmanuel Davies, Jamadhi Verse and 22 others
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