I have neglected you my dearest loves. I have left you in desert places to quench your own thirst for poetry. I know there’s a lot of good stuff going on right now so I didn’t really leave you in desert places, I left you in a flourishing environment. HOWEVER, I left you, and for that I am sorry. Accept this poem as an apology:
Mausoleums sink when the ground breaths.
Those pockets of trapped air escaping.
If a structure of death is to fall,
it will be the ground that disrupts it’s fixtures.
Mausoleums sink when the ground breaths,
I suppose that is why empires of death specialise in choking.