shivalik surrender

the smell of earth, pine and wild roses in the sun,
i cold have fallen down and died in that scent and it would have been ok,
the mythic sized ravens and wooly mountain dogs would have feasted on my flesh,
and wild strawberries grown up upon my clean white skull,
little dirty faced children would have played with my ribcage,
or turned one rib into a spout for the freely gushing springs,
everyday a family could have drunk from my abandonned bone,
i would have been the bringer of sweet nectar and the lifeblood of their home,
the smell of earth, pine and wild roses in the sun,
i could have fallen down and died in that scent and it would have been ok.