It's hard to imagine
the world after
Millions of people
hunt for food
and shelter
Acts of cruelty
and kindness abound
Animals and plants
keep on course
as always
We tell ourselves
we have free will,
dominion and agency
While scrambling on
the edge of oblivion
Poems like this
are being written
in the quiet tunnels
Of the lungs of sentient
beings everywhere
I am only a scribe.
