A Prayer to the World

Hear me, O World—By the blood
That courses hot in my veins,
I reject the wrath of gods
And to this very day remain

Unconvinced that we live lives
Cursed with a serpent at our heel,
Labor’s hurt upon our wives,
Thorns, thistles and dust in the field,

And only Death free from pain
Because our dark and distant kinsmen,
Naked and knowing no shame,
Fell from perfect grace—amen.

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