It is a world of cavities.
The soiled earth continues
to bleed & machines devour.
The hills their board game.
The oceans their forgotten
tub. The skies their witness
to centuries of dusted clouds.

It weeps, the future. Long
forgotten forests could’ve
humbled heads. The children
of trees branch out, gaping.
In the sphere where all voices
are heard, where is ours? Where
is our seat, where is our table?

Is the room sealed away from
our forests? Our oceans? Our
Skies? Is the price paid our only
destiny? Where is the teeth of
our ancestors if not found on
the richness of our soils? Why
are we deprived of our wings
but burdened with carrying the
poisonous sting?