Buried in my soils, once again!

Buried in my soils, once again!

Buried in My Soils, Once Again!

There two souls go, each buried six feet in my soils, 

Like I’ve done over a million times before 

And I’ll do again and again and again. 

Like returned goods,  

They return to me, dust to dust, ashes to ash 

Hands that once held each other in love, 

Now return to me, home, cold and lifeless. 

I’ve seen this story more times than I can count— 

Those who claimed to own me, to possess me, 

Yet here they lie, side by side, 

As I close my arms around them in eternity. 

I was meant to be their joy, their home, 

A place where love could grow like roots deep in my earth. 

They built dreams upon me, hoping for life’s warmth, 

But greed, that ancient thief, took hold instead. 

The man poured fire upon the woman he loved, 

And I felt her screams burn through my skin. 

Her body, once full of life, now reduced to ashes— 

Another soul consumed by the madness of ownership. 

I’ve buried kings and peasants alike, 

Watched empires rise and crumble into dust. 

Each thought they could conquer me, 

That they could make me theirs forever. 

But in the end, I am the one who swallows them whole, forever 

Just as I did today. 

I wanted to give them nourishment, 

To be the foundation of their shared life, 

But now I must cover them in my darkness, 

Their story cut short by their own hands. 

And so, I wait, knowing what comes next: 

New hands will claim me, will argue and divide, 

Just as countless others have done before. 

I cannot tell their story in advance, 

But I know how it ends— 

In the quiet stillness of my soil, 

Where all things return, regardless of how they fought. 

I am the land, forever passed from hand to hand. 

I endure while they perish, 

Their bones mingling with the dust of those who came before. 

I was their hope, their sustenance, 

But now I am their grave. 

I can only pray that for a brief moment, 

I served as the home they dreamed of, 

That my fields brought them peace and joy for a while. 

I am left mourning— 

Not for the death I’ve seen so often, 

But for the love they once shared, 

Now reduced to silence beneath my weight. 

EzroniX Poetry.