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We were spread out

Across the lands

We were the miniatures

Of the legends

We had legs like your nerves

We had primitive figures

We had sharp noses

We had livid tissues

We had life in the edges

We had sharp kisses

We never touched their nerves

Yet we bleed in the middle of a summer

We were once boastful

That axes can never wipe us out

Now they need our earth naked

Now they need to root us out

Now they make breathless cells

Now they live in porous grounds

We are them in counted days

Ignorant we are, ignored by their ways