Seed

The seed was sown; its fruit was taken,

Morphed into necromantic desires

The harvest was done; leeched out,

To form the grains of sorrow and despise-

The flower dried, leaving behind the decaying essence of time-

Rains of pain and torment had nourished the plant well;

The fruit had formed after years of patience and sacrifice,

But its taste lasted only for a second...

It could not satiate; the years of pent up hunger

It only fueled it more,

Hunger giving way to hunger;

Like some vicious cycle.

People cutting each other's throat for a nascent fruit.

It is funny rather how we seem to forget

That it is not the fruit that matters, what matters is how we get it...