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The Cauldron


A Renaissance-esque illustration of an alchemist
Boiling trouble

These wires and bars are earth disbarred from out Our Mother Nature’s breast and staked in dance With alchemy to gather grams and rout The rest. Advancement lies, invoking trance, To trade you dirt for time, a con man’s coin. The broken promise felt in age is real Today, beneath the skin, above the loins, In hearts desperate for love. A deathless deal Was made to feed the mind and now we eat The taboo meat to carry us thru the night In hopes the day will dawn when a repeat Is not the only prize for this invite. To soothe the grief take heed to find the home Within, and know you don’t suffer alone. -MMF

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