Self-Destruct
The air is smoke:
Oppressive, suffocating heat
That would choke the lungs of lesser men
With panic,
But we know just what to do.
We’ll drown the fire in a torrent,
And when the floods rise up,
We’re fight the water with fire –
The flames licking up every last drop
Until our feet are on dry ground
And everything is ash,
Never minding that when the new trees
Snake their way to the sky,
Their seeds will fall on volcanic rock
And be snatched away by the winds.
And as we fall
Like the Romans before us,
We’ll wonder where we went wrong.
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