Chelsea Wolfe
Appalachia
It was the way we always knew
That we never had a clue
That we never had a chance
Like others in the dance

Like black diamonds, ash and light
Like the mines and anthracite
Split-tongued fellows, venom-survived
Violence only against the vile

Here, we bleed into the wild
Then laid to rest there, man or child
This shining gutter in the sun
Is it worth it in the run?