Flesh Of The World's Flesh
Flesh of the world's flesh;
by Patti Masterman
Seething sea of wriggling bodies-
All breathing in breaths,
All hiding from deaths.
Looking out a single eye;
Thinking thoughts to ponder why
They have to lay them down and die;
In countless graves, the bones will lie.
Still and cold as earth below,
When the winter season's come;
When the gales of winter blow,
And the trees all bare their boughs.