Description
No one was looking up as they gathered in the clouds.
Legs weak from disuse, heads deeply bowed.
Common prophets' tongues nailed in their mouths.
Intangible vectors, beholders and betrayers.
Heads crooked from prideful prayers.
The glow consumes us, buries us beneath its layers.
"Let us slice their tender necks as they ford our bleeding rivers!"
"Let us bare our flesh for their tender eyes till they are all aquiver!"
"Thanks be to the gods, for my life is all MINE, not of the Giver!"
No need to fear, you will own it all.
You will have your way, the earth will cede to your call.
All of nature will succumb to man's design, in time.
Calculations and curations in your gilded march of progress.
The two enduring fruit, mangled in your trampling of the harvest.
Their red seeds pressed into the earth will give forth.
They shall beckon the fires of the deep and the winds of the North.
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