The black, bloody, treacly,
substance,
oozed out, of Gaia's back, like liquid gold.

Always held, in sweaty,
greed-fuelled hands,
strikings were commonplace,
by the cat o' nine.

But, it wasn't multiple lives,
She was losing,
it was - a total loss,
of respect.

Eventually, Her spiritual resources,
would be totally depleted.
Her caregiving nature defeated.

Leaving Gaia begging for death.

Sporadic sores,
opened,
in the middle-eastern,
portion of her body.
The surface of her skin,
became a pus-filled warzone,
raging, on, and, on.

Her rooted,
oxygen-emanating hairs,
were cut, chopped,
planed, and, burned away.
Leaving large areas,
of Her body, unprotected.

This torture meant,
that, even, as Gaia's moral fibre,
tried to replenish Her,
there was never enough time,
for Her to properly heal.

The...