crumbling world falls
through my hands.
in my mouth
taste bitter sands.
grass is burning,
pulse is slow.
drip by drip my back-
wards growth ....crawl
fade to hate.
and I'll die within my fade-
wine, song, women, birth -
this deflowered mother earth
planting, plowing, how she grieves.
the seeds that grow these dying trees.
Crawl...
fade to hate.
and I'll die within my fade

fade to hate.
and I'll die within your fade