cause) 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.


Earth: As a Furnace

(i) Watchers Restrained

We built our towers in sand
and now they collapse around us,
as we fall into the cracks.
Nothing shall remain as it once was.

Hold on to these falling pillars and resurrect a passion,
when silence sleeps to the beat of fists.
Bury your head in the sand, and throw you heart to the sea
for your children have no place to grow their bones.

Birds are weak as their necks grow thin,
trees no longer stand.
And like the soil, we too are made of grain.
Like the death of young, it is finality.

Assemble the masses at the cliffs,
and we shall cast ourselves to the seas.
Rain strips the skin from our bones.
We fall into the cracks of the earth..

Silence. Desolation.
Silence. Desolation.

(ii) Gentian Truth

There is a mist that chokes the land.
The waves attack. Relent.
The skies attack,
they come, relentless.