when the day comes that my bones crumble to dust
I'd like to grow into a tree
and use my big branches to hold up the sky
to give Atlas a moment to breathe

but what when the heavens throw down spears of light
and raze down the forest?
am I to be content with returning to ash,
scattered by the whims of the wind?

to serve as the catalyst for babe's first breath,
cursing the fact that there is still unfinished work left

I'd rather be in the first note of a songbird's song
fulfilling the purpose I was meant for all along:
to scream of the sorrows and trials of life
and all the things before death, so easily deemed trite

but I don't deserve that, do I?

come here, you sinner, with ungrateful smirk.
I'll throw you into a corporeal body
and teach you to hurt.

a celestial debt that carries
through multiple lives
suffering now in payment for things
that never received their proper time

but now ouroboros' jaw looms over
like a storm cloud on the horizon
and maybe Kurosagi is
coming for me after all.