Scarabs fly away
The threat of their sting
Still here

They gather in the air
Swarming on the
Edge of sky

Glimmering with gold

The burning of a thousand knives
Seeping in their

Sleeping when you’re out

Living life without

Thriving while you’re out

Among insects the coward flies
Caught broken above
The ground

Across space, there is a price
To cure you of your

To find the jewel
And line your coffers

No one knows

What it is worth

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