-From the gore of ancestors,
The least favorable instincts
Collude in a common stream
-Passing through arteries
And the stellar roundabouts
Of all generations until the present

Beginning as salt & going lukewarm
Bodies are culminating in the potash;
Fate is synonymous with reincarnation
To death, the white light of pervasion.

-These personas that are everyone,
Rife with work, aspiration, and turmoil
Cannot be their optimal versions
If the body won’t allow it.
Sometimes it is degraded to chaff
-Never perfect and never faultless

Without blessing hysterical godsends,
Without transcending grass and ore:
A simple euphony of natural paradise.
Let everything else be denied-


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Writer, aspiring farmer and homesteader in North Georgia, making ends meet and trying to become more enlightened.

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