Euphorbia, the Assassin
Out of pain, the ground stirs
Pebble part while ways, waves
Of rigid bones… buried curves
With in sand, insane men turn
Body’s hourglass seconds, Time
Flushes, suckles, and deserves
Straight sticks and cruelty rocks
Dendritic webs bold, flames burn
Piercing, a crown of thorns, souls’
Take all to the devil’s tales, turn
Gypsum rose, a high mountain
Blossom, crystals bare in urns
Doses sung by bloody hearts
To dust, succulent poison earns
"And to death, we all return."
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