and all the grief that left the bodies became crowded in the chest of trees
years of temperless cries eroded the vertical outline of the forest
for it wasn’t eden from which they fell
and created this stream of deceptive patterns
much to ponder from the view of a plateaued stone
much to know when the breeze carries the prayers of humble worship
hums the stories of forgotten pain, bodies of curved, eroded trees
volume of water stagnant, you were meant to leave this place
unaccompanied by sighs.
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