The wind knocks,
wrestling with your sealed doorknob.
Your ceiling clings to the sky desperately.
Water erupting from the clouds, they sob.
Lava bubbles and burns red in the November tree leaves.
It cracks your lungs, they scream.
The insects feed and seed
Sharp black mold carries you,
life and deaths kiss.
They sleep together in your bed,
while you bleed mortalities
bliss.
While bones shred,
it won't blink because some gods don't cry
People are weeping,
forests are reaping.
Each soul sanctified, bodies purified
Silver church bells ring,rows of roses sing.
The Earth's tissues tearing apart will Consume
From your carcasses red pulp spring will bloom.
©i_mr_saint
I