Lamentations

I wonder how many times

we’ve been made from dust

how many Genesis have there been

how many mother planets

we’ve inhabited. 

It is the same repeated cycle

we are created,

we evolve,

then the human virus takes over

we kill,

we sin,

we destroy

the planet groans,

breaking beneath our weight

and collapses in itself.

heaven gives us another chance:

They’ll be different this time.

I will give them a new name,

a new heart,

a new form.

but the apple does not fall far from Eve

this time, it was not the serpent

evil is inevitable

and so is our existence.

it gets worse each time

how comfortable we’ve grown

watching our kind drown,

walking over bodies,

ignoring the wars and raging storm.

but blindness does not heal the wound.

this time,

the end is nearer than the beginning

we will not change

we are unrepentant

we will not be better.

the virus is hungrier for blood than ever before.

nothing really is new under the suns

each and every one that has been created

and yet destroyed.

we might not survive

another mother planet

perhaps mercy will no longer call us back.

so I plead–

let it end here

for my soul is weary,

I would not rise again.