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It’s Goodbye in an Alien Language
Tomorrow? Today’s still hanging on a cliffhanger.
The warnings come swift, red alerts blaring all over the world, while we hunker down in our homes that have become like prisons.
Breathe. Just breathe. One, two, one, two…
The tick-tick-tick of the clock reminds us that we’re far from immortal.
(Did you ever think the end of the world would come like this?)
There aren’t UFOs flooding all airspace. The trees still whisper in their secret signals, and lights blink in and out of being as electricity becomes scarce.
Breathe. Let it in, let it out, just like that.
The emergency, the uncertainty, the quiet leaking in all the cracks and spaces in the walls — these are things that will never last a lifetime, let alone an eternity.
(Did you ever think you might pray again to a God you didn’t believe in?)
You hold hands with your kids — the same ones they called the lost generation in a world that had begun to fray at every edge. It’s too late to give them a future that holds promises instead of decay. Your youngest traces the clouds brimming with rumbles of thunder to come.
