#388 (a different storm)

We keep consuming

what consumes us.

Fat, oil, plastics, a

sea of misery, we

filled it up and now

we are marveling

at our fates. Bound

to walk this place of

cruelty and beauty

we are burning

ourselves with every

match we strike, every

drop we spill, reaching

closer to oblivion. We

killed most gods,

replacing them with

shiny tokens of progress,

sending substitute prayers

one swipe at a time. The

beauty we share is still

budding, yet it might not

hold against the storm,

ripped apart like rose

petals. But it might also

be the only thing surviving,

a  seed for the future.

Maybe it will become the

butterfly to cause a

different kind of storm.


© Matthias Geh, 10th July 2018



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