Anamnesis II: A Dry, Sterile Thunder, Without Rain

And the feeling body shudders and lurches on the edge
Quaking with dead inertia- a caged oak
Suppressed from the instant that seed took root
In earth the promised of a monolith
All I see are saplings shackled to stone
A genocide of all we've sown.

I am waiting for the great abate
Thunder claps, but no water falls
Thunder claps, and no water will fall.

Shattered Ouroboros: I feel the mountain within
The sea, the soil, the sky
Suffocating under ten-millennia coil
Shattered Ouroboros.

I call thee, hark
Devoid of metamorphosis, twisted larvae starve
Megaflora extinction, an era of gynocide
I call thee, hark Ares! I call thee, hark
Apocalyptic atavism!

"Here, one can neither stand, nor lie, nor sit
There is not even silence in the mountains, but dry, sterile thunder, without rain"
I await the flood in rusting chains
For a fertile thunder that reeks of rain.