Sister I

Tell me what I’m doing here; tan skinned and red eyed.

The oak trees are burning and I’m running for my life.

Why did I walk here, in this path of hatred?

For some wild glory, described in vague terms like god and the stars,

So close to the fire my lashes are burned and my shoes are melting?

Did I crave, like the many, bitter smoke to burn my lungs?

Can you say, will you tell me, why the flame still burns?

My ears are red and my nose is burning; snot dribbles from my lips.

Is it the winter now? Has the snow fallen yet? Is there enough rain this year?

I have been in the flame for so long now, my Sister.

A moment ago you were drowning in the muk,

In another, your metal hand closed around my neck.

I am choking on your good luck, in six feet of fear and heartbreak.

This place on Earth is not for me, and more so it is not for any of us.

Whatever wonder resided in this place, it is gone now;

They have taken wonder away from everyone.

Yes, I see that now my sister, and you should too;

It’s all a hellhole here; no matter which corner turned, there's something terrible.