The Fleshlands(Jason James Parker) Ingesting bread at river’s mouth,

Fuels nether regions to the south.



The palace under grassy hill,

Trade routes abreast the fire doth fill.



Watchtowers see the enemy come,

Chords at all extremities strum.



Piston-legs and weapon-arms,

Stomach-ocean seeking calm.



Sword seeks cup and snake finds heel,

Lumbering giants boast appeal.



Lichen covered castle walls,

Libraries fed by marble halls.



Barely gleaning reasons why,

Blooming interest as we die.

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