2020 🌪

The tectonics shift

Sand slips helpless through an hourglass

Change is imminent, cataclysmic and crass

It calls on the wind as our nails puncture the grass

As we cling even tighter to loose archaic structure

Scraping the sky in its surrendering crumble

While we claw and tumble to the deepest depression

What do you really fear? Collective transgression?

While human insanity erupts into a sweating red fever

Our home is a wasteland - it can't help you either.

But the threat of hope looms,

Challenging a guilty psyche

There’s a crack in the nut

There’s a chink in the armour

There’s a macabre churning

There’s a debt collector, called Karma.