losing time to abandoned gardens
guilt is the pulse of shifting soil
sinking blindly with the roots and lead
a perpetual burial; hell upon our fingertips

in pursuit of dreaming apparitions
i have been shed; countless barren bodies
embracing decay to feign rebirth
gaunt limbs guiding repetition

an endlessly tiring turmoil
toiling hallowed ground to its death
lending breath to insatiable lungs
becoming inseparable from expectation

upon avarice our legacies perpetuated
denialism counting particles of ash
lining mausoleums with artefacts of animus
a heralding of cyclical disease

i have relinquished prayerful hands
shattered bone and broken tethers
our flesh is forfeit to regimen
so in love we plead our autonomy