Untitled

Prickly spine,
A trickle of blood,
And, you-

The boiling magma,
Crystalline marvels,
And, tears-

Together,
They thrive-
Endlessly.

In the acrid lush lure,
Where breathed in-
Is a puff of life.

And when the ashen silence falls-
Dried up-
It shrivels.

Unnoticed-
It may have thrived on.
Who'd have noticed?