Hindrance,
sweet salvation stuck mute
upon the cresting wave of a landslide.
Eating the village, the
paupers, the gods at the
temple--
--It's voice is lodged.
Saving grace carried away by a
storm of fertile ground pummeling
the infertile streets of civilization.
We stand motionless against the
repercussions of our own actions
and the transgressions
of our ancestors,
wondering who will be left when
the purification is done.