the world will end if you let it

(in a whisper, Largo)

We are unfinished at this work yes,

We are building walls we can’t see over

We are destroying castles—Tall, lovely towers

That should never have been built

(they were built on sacred land.

More than sacred, ours)

Hope and home

Claimed by yesterday’s greedy

(affret, agitato, like arguing with your mother)

I see wind-blades carving through butter

Hear cawing complaints from the choir

Feel the high of money. Taste the glare of power.

(I don’t know what to do yet.)

(on my cue, andante)

So today: We will wake again

To the horrors, fears,

two seconds to midnight.

Adam’s doomsday (beat)

was nothing more than dust.

Our doomsday will leave nothing but

Dust.

So we cannot let it come.

We cannot stop the work.