Kamchatka. Eggshell. Zeneszám

Tainted raindrop.
Chemical blue.
Shapeless grey lid,
close in on you.
Diminishing space
each and every day,
yet increasing a distance
for which the coming shall pay.

We live in a time where it means to make sense
for a father to profit at his childrens expense.
To keep draining the earth without putting anything back.
A crust like an eggshell can be easily cracked.

Heatwave pounding
a shield grown thin.

Twisted cycles
Empty within.
A legacy left
from generations of sin.
Shameless greed, now, is sucking it in.

We live in a time where it means to make sense
for a father to profit at his childrens expense.
To keep draining the earth without putting anything back.
A crust like an eggshell can be easily cracked.

We had it but we sold it.