33. Sterilise My Soul

i will not be buried
nor put out to sea
reserve me not a bed
in your cemetary
awaiting the awakening
of the false prophecy

burn me as of old
build up a high pyre
bring a soft song
to accompany the guitar &
sweet smelling fragrance
for the spiritual fire

i hate what we’ve done to the earth.
see how we’ve harmed
our selfless mother.
Taken her ‘n’ shaken her.
Stabbed her with swords
in the south ‘n’ north.
Cut her with wire &
Burdened her with walls.

so i will not be buried
you can burn me as of old
for i would rather the pain o’ flame
than to lay there in the cold.
Yes, i would rather the pain o’ flame
To Sterilise My Soul.

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4 thoughts on “33. Sterilise My Soul”

  1. thank you Roxi 🙂
    once all my old work is out, i think this is the way i’ll progress, and rhyming stories of nature

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