Authored: August 12, 2022

The world is dying
The paint is peeling
The grass is brown
The air is stiff with the sounds of moans
There's a sense of ending
The cogs in the machine are slowing
The Sun is descending
The heat is unbearable
The rain when it falls is acidic
The bones of animals are like mini funeral pyres on the ground
Great cities start to shut down
People are making their final days count
The sky is no longer blue
But opaque like the souls of mankind
The flowers are dying
Carbon Dioxide is making it hard to breath
We've succumbed to our Narcissism
Burned down the world with our endling
These shots, was there a point?
Will the world cry for us when we are gone?
Will I cry for us?