yellow dirt
the harvest done
the insubordinate first-born son
newest blood drawn
on epic stone
and the ever-ache of the lung
young bones, brittle
bend to my whim
death, i am become
destroyer of worlds, all sons of bitches
now, let it be sung again
false smoke risen
lift from the past
take what was left alone
forgiveness known to the numbered one
i knew it, too
long ago
kindling pitch
give this fire
life with the scent of the pine
lit from blood again
blood hums the song again
let us keep this in mind
toys of the drone
kingdom come
unearthed into now non-land
the goat and the lamb
rancid milk of man
felled from the branch to the palm
last light dawns
on the kingdom, gone
is the wisdom
is the hand
let it be said
i stood against
i did what i thought i could
tho i hid my face
raised my voice too late
knowing only words
not language
not blood
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