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Rifle The Rainflorest

Tiny-y-son


don’t rifle my forest years of redemption
bury the matrix of nature’s anatomy
haze chaos foreign circumstances
safe a native of a world like this

so just pick up the ashes from the ground
a million insincerities unless we’ll be found
we’re dying in earth-holes afraid of the end
we’ll never loose patience until lullabies end
lights out lights out when will it end


suffer! a sudden contempt to suffer
reject employment
as a raving constrained mercenary
are we really superior to the ones we despise

we’re not
we’re not more than a fuck
to the ass of the world
they stand alone we’re not supreme individuals
they stand alone

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