Mother Pig

If I knew for sure that

I had a soul

I'd sell it right now for the chance to experience

Mother Earth's last gasp before she sinks into a perpetual episode of life support

Clung to hope as the bastards of complacency and decent stand over us

Carved from human bone by human bone

Carved from human bone by human bone

The magic wand of oppression waves above and occasionally bounces from skull to skull

She's become the pig on the spit

Salvation stuffed into her mouth like a rotted green apple

We, the eager ants, wait below her and bask in her dripping fat

No more audience

No more audience

Warm breath rises

Boiled fat falls