Good god

The tree grows with apples just born rotten

As they fell, dead animals eat these fruits

And then sick black birds feed themselves with these creatures

For just get sicker and die from bad smell and also intoxication

What can anyone say about the decomposers?

They’ll eat the black bird’ bodies without conscious of the dirtiness

And they’ll pass away to make the ground richer

Like you, like me, and all the others

But consciously.