22.9.13

Fertile Land



In the argued nights of thoughts
New worlds are born
Twisted, turmoiled
Bloody, hot

Not in the cool corridors
The sterile labs
Disinfectant reeks
Clean, calm

No, not in those places
sanitised life
Birthed by death
Pure, untainted

But in the dirty mud of first creation
Vigorous naivete
Takes its place
Bold, brave

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