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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.
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 6:19 PM UTC
Sleeping Stones
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.
anthony-hitch
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 6:19 PM UTC
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