Sphere of Influence

Earth's cyclical nature ensures the uselessness of ego. Bright skies overhead and lush green grasses underfoot, all set in place by the chemical reactions humanity terms death. Rotting corpses take new forms as blades of grass rise like the Phoenix. No thought or sound or grand ceremony for even the most jovial as the reorganization of cellular vibrations goes unnoticed and unappreciated by those engaged with the mocking tempo of time, oblivious to the imminent dissemination following Gaia's suffocating embrace.