Nature

Locked down in my own private misery 
as birds sang in jolly, 
Earth swallow me, life is unbearable 
for shame and pain engulf me,
Maybe death is where my 
treasure is buried.

Or may the Gods send an 
Oracle to ease the burden
perhaps I shall be among the singing birds.

And may the Oracle remove
the scabs and clean the itching pus,
And the pain I shall bear
may equate gold,
And may the heavenly sent
 Confine all my solitude too.

For we may spread more joy
and our DNA shall ne'er
accommodate the faults the Oracle fixed.

In harmony