Well-rotted

Arise! Morning, dawning mist
Reveal to me what lies before my yawning, fawning pits
Yearning walls await what falls to their hungry depths
This metre cubed shan't be refused
Its food my cells behest

What you call weeds, my Mother needs
To heal her open wounds and weils
But should you strive to wield the scythe
Lay your slain stalks here inside

Oh solar crown perpetual
Usurped as each of us must fall
Our common fortunes dealt to us
As Gilgamesh and dust to dust

Now Autumn tolls the bell so clear
Farewell old King, your bones are near
At hand in which we catch your tales
Leaves which read whose reign prevails
Each one a story such as this
With veins that rhyme death’s pain with bliss

Now gather them all! Those fables fluttered
Sacks and sacks of mantras muttered
I care not for what they decree
Only their carbon speaks to me

Bring them here, those sun-spent leaves
And alternate with Mother’s weeds
On top of them more woody browns
Then grass and nettle layered down!

If what beast excretes you do possess
Then heed demand in this request
To embrace your dark matter thus
Your deadened waste brings life to us

With green brown green brown stratified
Hereby this pile is ratified
And by the spell I cast behold
Within two moons I bleed black gold

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