She

is your long suffering lover giving, unrequited save for your times of nurture your slightest kindness yields luxuries, she gifts bouquets and feasts her meadows stream song you dance, you lay sated, then lust you take her gifts build your city, leave your after-party on her breast she withers, she cries, you ignore her pleas, they become the sound of wind she has waited long and suffered, but she remains she is wrath awoken her tears and temper flood you, tear you and you deny your denial feeds she bears new fruit a poison apple you feed on her metaphor on your ignorance you wonder why you hunger she is Gaia, the mother of time, your lover and your time has run out.