Sweat-Stack Prophecy.

After all that’s been said and done or not done,

they actually wonder what’s struck me so dumb,

perhaps I should’ve sent a universal memorandum,

to describe what’s been specified –

by the tribe where I come from;

when the shamans beat their’ drums,

and the forest sighs sweetly, and hums,

beckoning wakefulness to our Oldest Ones,

and as each awakens, a foundation gets shaken –

they can sniff out who doesn’t smell strong;

I only want to defy right here, under the sky –

close my heavy eyes and let it all be finally done;

I look around never to find anyone,

I have grown weary of trying to be strong,

my spirit rebels in a temper tantrum,

don’t chafe my hands, leave me just as I am,

I’m blessed and I’m cursed all in one.