A poem inspired by the Muse of Cold Earth.
Baby Bird
I’ve waited a lifetime to be born
As I stand here, knee deep in viscera
A primordial soup of hope and dreams
The planet around me is like a the sweet flesh of an apple
But I see bruises
My spatial shell corroding slowly into rot
I am looking out through the window of a fresh pair of eyes
Aged to imperfection
And tempered with the heat of the dying sun
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