Grace this filthy wasteland
With the touch of your hand
With fingertips like wellsprings--
Your voice,
A warm string.

Give life to this place--
Blighted by the curse
Alight it deep with meaning,
Percussing with your heart.

Take the shriveled oak
And let it shine bright once again!

Gather all unopened treasures
And make their contents known!

Rake decay from every child,
Violent waters-- make them mild!
Lock away the conflagration
That's shown its ceaseless fury.

And while you sew this garden
Tuck with fervor every seed
And be sure to thank good Michael
For every passionate deed!

For anything specific
(The sinuses of leaves)
Is afforded by a terminus
(The history death weaves)
And if you ever laughed,
You laugh at death
You murderous ****!
So take another beating
For the monster you've become.