Gasping for Hope

Smoke diffuses in this silent room, the music of my headphones drowns out the voices around me. My invisible shield against the war for the world.

Stomach rumbles. The ache of sacrifice making its home in the seat of my abdomen. Hunger making acquaintances with ambition, getting on a first name basis with effort. Falling in love with the grind. It's not what I thought it would be, though.

Rolling clouds and clanking metal, the smell of poison, Mother Earth's coughs make waves like tsunamis. Tired of dying to support us. Fragile little lives. Powerful mercenaries, following the cult of commerce. Blood diamonds in the eyes of demons challenging the existence of angels.

Too much to carry on the shoulders of slaves to capitalism, a broken chain of command. Plucking daisies out of the follicles of Gaia's tresses. Honeybees swarm around nectar-less flowers. Give me the life I've always dreamed of, fields of wildflowers and infinite potential. Dream in the color of possibility. Hues known to conscious creators, those brave souls willing to walk in shark infested waters.

Dancing in the rain atop the graves of the old gods, desperately clinging onto the old ways, a resurrection of the aboriginals. Sons of the Earth, daughters of the dust. Glistening heads, covered in Ash. A mighty fine blessing.

Cradle me, oh lord, in the fullness of hereafter. Carry me to lands where the lowest vibration is ecstasy. Show me that there is more to life than this. Remind me that there is still great love here.

I want to hear the beautiful of music in a quiet dark room, enjoy the smell of sacred smoke, and know that there is shelter from the end of the world.