( novae terrae ) - Gang Gang Dance

And under the bruised, black sky

Blanketed by stars

Serving light like murals held high above the ant hill we call earth

It’s where we sang songs about destroying the art of song

It’s where we burn books in protest of arson

In protest of destruction

The beating of humanoid hearts

Quantized to a clicking mouse

Its rhythm building walls around itself

Soundproof and with no proof of life and no signs of death

What we have been searching for had been written in the banks of the leaves

And the the dirt we had spent a lifetime trying to wash away

Was the God we had tried so hard to put a face to