Before we drop it.
We keep feeding.
We keep following.
We still pay.
The day, oh yes the day when their tissue and flesh solidifies,
the day it stop decompose and glazes the world in a hard dead shell.
The wounds are there and don’t seem to heal but we are not there yet.
We keep buying.
We keep throwing out.
We run out of money.
Nights in golden armor for all our dreams are compressed and rejected,
the night will not shine, just be aware of the darkness engulfs every seductive spark.
The brightness is there but fading into gray concrete.
We have peeled the crust.
We have penetrated the veins.
We have started the petrification process.
When I am awake I still see the exploited green meadows and black forests,
knowing that for every black spot it will increase.
Some places become the sea, others are wiped out; rinsed away and petrified for a new beginning.
We can’t keep feeding.
We can’t stay on this path.
We pay with our life.
Still life is what we know, do we want to drop it?
We don’t say no and drop the seductive glass of wine .
Surely we have to drop the need for unattainable dreams.