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The deepest pit from which you spit

Filled with grit

Fluidity, inequity

As it finds its perfect home and hole

Where the head goes, the body it follows

And you're no different

You burrough you hollow

Perpetually you swallow from rivers of red

From which you are dreading and treading

The lineage of oppression can be traced to its roots

From your tree of origin, for it has since died

Broken, twisted, lattice and callous

Tethered to your tree

Not by tether, not by rope

But by vanity and pride, stupidly you hope

Simply away you could walk from beneath its reign

Fallen from grace, your trunk, your truths, decay