I Shall Descend

I shall descend into the pit of humanity,
unbutton my coat, let down my hair,
and call upon you, oh, broken promise of the wasted earth,
you dragged my body through the garden where wilted flowers
stuck to the fabric of my stockings.
And now I step toward the grave,
moving closer to the cracked stony slate;
it rattles, and screams
like a banshee in some sordid night.
No, it does not speak softly,
like the airy voice of death.
Instead, it beckons both amphibian and
violet flower--we were born from this dirt,
and now we must die beneath its polluted soil.