Magma—the blood in my core:
Let it gush forth from within,
To clear all that lies in its way,
And form new soil thereon.
The pressure has built inside,
But now it will break forth.
Outside I will be as within,
And both alike will glow.
I seek to be where I am not,
For myself I cannot contain.
Let each pulse flow over another,
As the river outreaches itself.
Each layer of me by another,
Will be yet again wiped clean.
Only ever to be dying is to live;
All else might as well not be.
I'll be a fountain of land,
Ever birthing from myself.
Turn my being inside out,
Over and over again.
I'll break open the earth

If I must to change myself.

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