ancient mothership will be reborn

I grew up, on this tiny little island,
This minute speck of dust in space,
Twirling and running around the sun,
Not tired, not hungry, just being itself,

I grew up, on this tiny little island,
This mothership, ancient and old,
Tenacious after every death,
And now time bids again for her death
At the hands of us who make her bleed

I grew up, on this tiny little island,
This speck of dust that now bowls
From the pit of its gut and roars
Like a mother who’s lost all her children,
Watch as she shudders with every tear
As it floods our shores and rip open our lands,

I grew up, on this tiny little island,
And soon she’ll claim herself to heal,
And the surface of her skin will erupt,
Shake and shutter, her tears pouring all over
As rebirth consumes her and rebuilds her