Ashes of Tomorrow

Power drips like tar across the globe,
leaders torch forests for gold,
while rivers clot with plastic veins,
and skies bruise under smoke’s iron fist.

Cities splinter,

glass teeth gnash famine’s wind,
oceans spew tar-lunged whales up like oil-slied rot
and treaties shrivel,

then burn in unlit cigars
by the grip of men crowned with bone.

Screens glow like false suns,
casting shadows where roots once held,
as hunger prowls through neon alleys,
and rain forgets the language of earth.

Yet beneath the rubble, green veins pulse,
hands claw through concrete

like roots in war zones,
voices crack stone with hope:

We hold the power to plant what the ashes feed.

New roots, yes, but the old rot gnaws. 

We seed the ground, yet the rot answers.

Tomorrow grows from the bones we break..