ignore the flesh, take the seed rake them, bake them, grind them, sieve bitter taste, alluring scent i paved the way to enlightenment

This grain won't give you the dancing plague.

Grim fate foretold, Were memory to fail, To the victor the spoils, Dead men tell no tales

I grow without roots and age without breath. Birds borrow my shoulders; kings take the rest. I wear flags like moods and moats like smiles. I tell war stories through slits and towers. I crumble alone, or under siege; turn away, tuck tale.

On the wall or on your phone Tells you to be somewhere or be at home The mayans had one that said In year two thousand and twelve we'd all be dead