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The Stumps Are Graves Of The Land

from The Land Is Not An Idle God by Wreathe

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lyrics

5. The stumps are graves of the land

The worm of man will consume
Burrow in the wizened fields
That has seen the plough
One too many times

As its descent is felt
With a quick inhale
Of painful breath
To cut again what was once left

Rooted, old and gentle
That drew the water through the mantle
All is withered now

The blood let, the table drained
And the green hands raised
In shock to cover trembled mouth

For nature is manifest,
Upright yes, pruned and sheered
With angled metal
Abused, humiliated

And each clod of dirt
Has felt the paw of mans need
It reels, but for it to rest,
It must first tear and pummel and ravage

For man is ripe for the plucking
To be devoured, deny its seeding
Deny its seeding

Chlorophyll disciples!
Quench with suns lick
Sate the earth
For its eminence

For all the altruists
Cometh together
Arbiters (of mans)
cruel hand

credits

from The Land Is Not An Idle God, released July 28, 2023

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Wreathe London, UK

Anti-fascist Emo crust from London, UK

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