The Root

"As the sun begins to set, the lowly scavengers are revealed, sulking in the gloom and lingering above. A pale eye opens as the worm is exposed, wrinkled and gray in pliable vulgarity. Something stirs, so familiar. The clamor is my mind - I’m curator - Curing all that’s cancerous For the sake of all mankind, in its resilience. Now go and do the same. So familiar, it gazes at me Ideas infest the self, Binding symbiotic dance, Raising man into the heights, Casting him upon the rocks. As the light reflects across the earth, I see a face"