If a misfortunate man doesn't fruit his seed the seed will dry up, failing to breed into the nest of the doe or fawn his bride; mother nature to spring garden of her womb to produce fruit. She won't be able to flower her eggs and the man's seed will turn to salt.

The pillar of salt will be bitter and won't harvest the idol season of any birth announcement. The worm won't reach the bird home at the nest.

   His body will melt into the sand of the desert. His name alone will be an a pond rained of water baron in the wilderness. His body will be ash of the earth. His flesh will become smoke of the mountain and then the man and woman will be weed in the wind. They're spirits will be shadows of the dust. Creation will become creature of deconstruction.

   For ascendency to recover reassurances of liberty, the seed must be planted, and the fish must breed the egg and when the word is spoken the stone of life is created breathed the spirit, and watered wisdom to become one whole force of continued existence of humans. 

                       ~Cory Morr