A veil of smoke
burns the eyes,
and chokes the throat.
There is no hope,
only a long,
ragged exhale.
Not even a sigh,
for there is no
relief in sight.
Hot as we were,
now, we are cold
to the bone.
Chilled to our skeletons,
walking around,
looking for graves
to call home.
Wandering spirits,
finding no comfort,
for we’ve been abandoned
by lovers and time.
Sick of creating,
self-isolating,
and staking a claim,
screaming, “Mine!”
I’m not sure
the evidence
exists
of our intelligence,
because this
is how we go.
Clean,
through a veil of smoke.
The destruction
of all we used to hold.
The Revelation
of truths we used to know.
The cessation
of the globe.
Are we ready for what’s after?
HG – 2020
