Mother Nature's Son

mother-natures-son.jpg
 
 

MOTHER NATURE’S SON

 

Words and illustration by Viana

 
 

You hold war in your hands
Spit the remains to the sea
You grow old,
As do we
You grow sick,
As do we
You do not strife
You do not lose
In fact, you do not beg or revolt or weep to God,
As do we

Hard headed and ill
Lay where space is infinite,
Without command
Stubborn, in your manner
Death is easy and forgetful,
You kill for its ease
You age at each birth
Each birth cries

I am sorry

 -Viana

 
Viana