Cuts deep watching
reapers,
Harvest and feast buoyantly,
Where they did not implant.
From the hands of lost sons,
So desperate for possesions.
Gluttony dimed their paths.
‘Nectarious’ winds became volcanic,
Roasting kin trust down ashes.
Toasty snuggles now scratches,
Grips and strangles to slain.
As reapers wear sheep skins,
To embezzle the spotlight.
Tearing heirs farther apart,
Playing the pietist part to all.
You never see them approaching.
Now you are the feeble shadows,
Camping beneath ocean floors,
Reaping the result of your voracity.
A stepping stone for the reapers,
From far flung remote vicinities.
google.coHarvest and feast buoyantly,
Where they did not implant.
From the hands of lost sons,
So desperate for possesions.
Gluttony dimed their paths.
‘Nectarious’ winds became volcanic,
Roasting kin trust down ashes.
Toasty snuggles now scratches,
Grips and strangles to slain.
As reapers wear sheep skins,
To embezzle the spotlight.
Tearing heirs farther apart,
Playing the pietist part to all.
You never see them approaching.
Now you are the feeble shadows,
Camping beneath ocean floors,
Reaping the result of your voracity.
A stepping stone for the reapers,
From far flung remote vicinities.
By Bassem
Ayamore
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