On Exsanguinating Stones
On Exsanguinating Stones
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Freely gift me your focus,
all usurers and thieves.
We've all some paltry grievance
with how you waste the air you breathe.
There exist spider-silken threads -
inseverably interwoven,
sewn against rock.
Amalgamates,
bonded by an unflinching,
merciless spirit of Liberty -
freezing, hungry palisades erected.
Our enviable blood engenders
the mortar, weaponized,
as we violently manifest
a more verdant future that
would never bear this lifeless grey.
Rubble deconstructed of unceasing Sins,
we dance in the form of dolomite bones,
jubilant vibrations echo, deafening -
brace yourself and suffocate
against the terrible weight of
a million bloodless stones.
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