Death & Degradation

No mind can see what’s comin’ next

When we die maybe we just wander off

Put down the tools on the job

Heavy bag off the back, no more labour

Not even glances at where we are

Just legs in motion

No journey in action

No sense of where and when

Just off on hills

Dirt beneath bushes

Stalks on flowers

Leaves on trees

No journey gaining traction

Just death

And absolutely

No degradation

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