Grubs

Grubs squirming in the fuel-choked mud Fat with panic and blood Great birds circle round above them Wings pelted by sleet Freezing the wet and wallowing army An empire in eternal stasis A way of life so gilded Suspended by hooks above The sea of hungry little lives Desperate for a piece of the meat To call their own Lone sapling grasps the gas-choked sky Stifled by the writhing bodies Roots snuffed out with vitae Striving for a form of glory Swallowed by the rings of its elders Devoured without meaning A way of life so rotten Preserved in pyrite honey until the scars of the earth cause The grubs to molt and reach With blood soaked wings To ever expanding sky To ever expanding sky (x4)