blood brilliant shell of a sky crests
over the mountain.
we stare at the scorched scenery.
a world is dying, the sky, a last gasp
as the black universe swallows us.
we hold on to the railings.
“a judgement on our sins,” you say
“we shouldn’t do this anymore,” you whisper.
we don’t touch.
your words deafening wind chimes, with no air
hang around us. How guilty do you feel to
make the sky your God?
I turn away from the dawn.
its taint bleeds over our happiness.
I want to blame the red sky rather
than your selfishness.
but the sky is just red, and you’re an idiot.