We are burning
We are bombing,
In a self-made Apocalypse,
Who will save us?
When thee who made us
Provided free will capacities,
This is on us,
Regardless of what you believe in,
Fix it, unless
You choose this end,
With riches and ash,
Profit and pain,
War and climate change,
Neighbors are fleeing,
A hell we have made,
And so many close eyes, head down, to pray,
“Do something!” The universe screams,
Your prayers alone are a selfish salve,
Ignoring your personal investment in this terror,
“Too little too late,” the skeptics say,
But why add fuel to this raging inferno?
This Inferno
She of Letters 