ASHES
After the final fire,
the winds will blow.
And these, which are already dead,
will cover the ones who have yet to die.

ORANGE
Men seize it from its home,
tear apart its flesh,
drink the sweet blood,
then cast its skin aside.

ICICLE
You see me oft,
In woods and town.
With my roots above,
I must grow down.

GRAVE
You see me oft,
In woods and town.
With my roots above,
I must grow
down.

GRAVE
A strange earthen house,
That brings nought but disdain.
And yet those who stay there,
Never do complain.
... Далее >>