Literature
Mother Earth
Stitch up gaping wounds
With rusty barbed wire.
Overlook the tetanus shot,
Pray for toxins
To creep within you veins,
To eat away at sacred flesh.
While bullet holes erode your heart,
And blood flows down,
Like blessed tears.
Feeding the hallowed ground,
Where wise men lay,
Awaiting the day they can
Arise once more,
To feed on the flesh of the sinners.
Repent, damn you!
Repent!
Can't you see what you do
To us,
To yourself?
To our world;
Our mother?
We are the bullet holes in her heart;
We are the toxins
Creeping along thick skin,
Scratching our way within;
We are the ones rubbing salt in her wounds,
Before stitching