Blessed be the barren land,
From this salted field nothing will grow,
Nor will it ever do so.
It cannot change other lands,
Infecting them with life,
It is salted, fetid and unfallowed.
Oh what a great blessing be this barren land,
Where life will not sow,
No progeny will this land beget,
For it is barren and made so.
Oh how the blessing have been made by me,
To cut the lines of possibility.
To be free of the rot of life by the barren land be,
To be free, from any probability,
Made free from the reaper’s stare,
Save for myself.
How it was suppose to be,
Blessed by the barren land be me.
Featured photo by Jeremy Bexanger on Unsplash.
