Literature
Dead heart
Listen to the beat beat beating of my broken heart,
you who raised me up from the dead,
so that I may paint your canvass full of art,
using my blood as ink and your soul as bread.
I am the black bellied dew-lover,
in me I carry the seed for new life.
I will not hide and run for cover,
I will fight using my words as a knife.
I believed in you in the moment of my death,
I believed in you in the moment of my rebirth,
I inhale your spirit with every breath,
and swear an oath to protect the earth.