the earth will not ask for attention.
but rumble in a mighty silence,
move an eternity
of clouds and waves to action.
make assembly lines of atoms,
trembling in their subservient shells,
then bathe in the disorder.

she will not offer mercy.
but bring life desperately to it’s knees, wring it meticulously
of all its borrowed magic.
and with her bare and calloused hands, spread her prize
like blood and honey across the skies, burning brightly in the glorious colors.

the earth will not forgo her spinning.
but drag every root or claw
that clings to her
through an infinity of dust and frost. skirting dutifully along the sun’s rays, bound to a thin and treacherous tight rope, gripped like a razor blade
wedged into her fist.
spilling precious drops of matter,
live and dead, like a trail of wet paint across the universe,
dancing delightedly in deference
to her imminent destruction.