Somewhere calm and loud with the cries and buzzes of the wildlife. Some place where I zone out and place my head against the hard soil. Let the roots over grow me. Have my chest collapse in as I am fed upon by scavengers and decomposers. Just a place I can rest my head for a few centuries.
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Please consider that I don’t want the soil to sink you beneath with it and steal you from me.
You’re right, can’t let this ancient thing steal me from you. If I am to sink into anything, it should be your arms instead.
