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Earth: As A WombWho will guard these hills?Those which are abandoned. Those which are exhausted. Everything is collapsing, can you see it? Awareness will come slow, if at all. I knew it would come, when everything collapsed. It is too late to rebuild these walls? (Because) this self created bliss has destroyed everything true, When truth was the rise of the first gentian. They do not know what they seek, So who could expect such grand repose When all wisdom ends in nothing, Who chooses what will be truth? It feels as though there is a saw resting on these bones, Behind this flesh lies an anaemic frame like brittle bones, they snap, it echoes for days I regret everything I ever promised, In this coil, endlessly falling to nothing as we think, we are all that will exist learning now, that this truth, was just denial. (ii) As a Furnace A once sacred womb, now more akin to a furnace. And we watch her bleed, watch the wounds run dry. Bury my hands in the soil fingers withered and grey extended like spines pulling patterns in the dirt Tear the bark from the trees and build a chariot and watch the earth return to grain, as it once was. |