
.dagbe neva: an ode to a dead tree.
it just is, we just are
nothing makes a whole,
and a whole makes nothing but this.
unknown place where you go to,
i heard is fulfilling.
your spirit dances, your spirit dances to dirge
your body rests, your body rests in a bossom.
is death really haven, what about lose
may be that is haven too, but to the lost
is death really haven, what about lose
may be that is haven too, but to the lost
tree roots lying restlessly on the surface of earths naked body
makes me rememebr when i first held you.
a skin as smooth as powder was suddenly rough as this tree's bark
and you became frail as though you neva ate food.
did you actually eat food ?
in my arms you rested as mom fed you water
(who would have thought water had become your only food in your last days)
water
the way of life clearly didnt give you life.
and on that warm evening you went looking for your nothing that made you whole
death just is,
and we just are
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva
dagbe neva