Either way, we are doomed
there’s a sea of ice
under which we’ll crush
and a sun of gold
under which we’ll melt
a torrent of rain
under which we’ll drown
a tremor of earthquake
under which we’ll smother
yet this earth continues what it has to do
for its inhabitants know not what they do
as we pass the ribbon of rubicon
under the big bold bright balloons
waving a carnival of streamers
of freedoms and liberties
the dopamine of our playground
unable to resist the riptide
stumbling fumbling tumbling
beyond the tipping point
like roller coaster riders
at the apex of the long loud scream
toward silence
