Extinction
For all those who travel after me, I sing to warn you of a time that may never occur, a lace unbroken in the still of night, a thought fleeting as smoke. I sing of orchids burnt beyond recognition and tigers leaping to tear the throats of those unborn, of starbursts rushing to claim the earth in a single cataclysm. I sing of a time stricken with eternal madness fouling the very water we shall breathe, of pages ripped asunder to deny the voice you hear today. I sing of thunder melting the sky, blazing fingers striking clay, creating vast quantities of ash with every lost moment. I sing of heavy hearts speared ruthlessly to the ground in a torrent of hail, cold fire covering all it caresses with unflinching hands. I sing of frozen oceans and burning tundras, birds stilled in mid-flight, and rivers clogged with death unmasked in gagging, noxious masses. I sing of ten thousand beings with souls anew, they with no voice to speak their heartache, lost into the void unmourned, with no lamp to guide them.
I sing of a time that has already arrived, and we too blind to see the warnings.