Through the eyes of eight billion, love is a memory,

a childhood long passed, a friend since entombed.


We are so attuned to melancholy,

lungs breathing bittersweet, hearts beating broken,

we forget love is a future, too.


Her tears flooding our seas, her screams torching our forests,

our planet pleads for help.


Mining oil from her veins,

forcing poison down her throat.


Our future is burning, blistering,

until it is nothing more than ash

slipping through our fingers and

pouring from our lips.


We need to love our future as we love our past,

love our planet as we love her wealth.

Before we drown in smoke

born of a fire we started.