Mine and everyone else's, it seems ;
I should send you poetry, singing your louanges,
your graces, your beauty. Words of god,
Gratefulness unyielding, pouring from every ounce of
my exhausting body.
Let me stop speaking, then ;
So your voice can fill the blank,
teaching us the ways in which we all lack,
humbling us, making you rise.

Have you heard the story, of the man inside the earth ?
Mouths say he stays holding it all, this miracle,
Thanks to all his hainous disdain for anything else
𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒.

Bow down to his feet, kiss them a little bit.
He, who surely must truly be
The Man above us all.