By day the swamp is still and calm, These stilted roots can do no harm, And the air hangs thick with the smell of silt, By lunar gaze with a splash of blood, Arouse the roots in salt and mud, And the air hangs thick with the smell of silt,
She who drains her blood and wanders, into nature's maw, A Pantheistic Misanthrope, the Mangrove's wanting whore, You scream for help, but deep inside, You're lusting for the cruel embrace, Of Mangrove roots that come to life, And fuck your every orifice,
You are the sacrifice, for Mangrove roots that come to life, This beautiful visage of misery and death is their abode They take your skin unto the grain, purify the mortal pain, Throw yourself upon the Mangroves and begin to live, Lost in Nature's ecstasy, forgotten by the human race, The human waste, these prisoners of steel and glass, The chlorophile laughs and laughs, As the Mangroves take from her, What the human world could only dream, Stripped of mortal form, lost in Nature's ecstasy
To lose your human illness, And to lose your human name, Vile and otherworldly, Yet familiar all the same,
The blight, revoke, In death, regrowth,
A naturalized iconoclast, The flesh and root are one at last and Its magnificence is matched by none,
You are the sacrifice, for Mangrove roots that come to life, This beautiful visage of misery and death is their abode They take your skin unto the grain, purify the mortal pain, Throw yourself upon the Mangroves and begin to live, Lost in Nature's ecstasy, forgotten by the human race, The human waste, these prisoners of steel and glass, The chlorophile laughs and laughs, As the Mangroves take from her, What the human world could only dream, Stripped of mortal form, lost in Nature's ecstasy,