_(mythic anger, ritualistic, theatrical)_
If there were gods,
they would not forgive us.
They would rise from the oceans
with salt‑scoured eyes,
demanding the names
of every species we erased.
They would walk the deserts
we manufactured,
counting the trees
we turned into ghosts.
They would ask us
why we worshipped convenience
over creation,
why we crowned ourselves
the chosen species
and then behaved
like arsonists.
And when we begged for mercy,
they would gesture
to the melting poles,
the drowning coasts,
the sky we bruised,
and say,
__You wrote your own prophecy.
We are only here
to read it aloud.__
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 12:26 AM UTC
_(mythic anger, ritualistic, theatrical)_
If there were gods,
they would not forgive us.
They would rise from the oceans
with salt‑scoured eyes,
demanding the names
of every species we erased.
They would walk the deserts
we manufactured,
counting the trees
we turned into ghosts.
They would ask us
why we worshipped convenience
over creation,
why we crowned ourselves
the chosen species
and then behaved
like arsonists.
And when we begged for mercy,
they would gesture
to the melting poles,
the drowning coasts,
the sky we bruised,
and say,
__You wrote your own prophecy.
We are only here
to read it aloud.__
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