The World Burns
The world burns
and her savior dons its helm
vision narrowed to a slit,
hearing muffled by padding and rigid metal,
smelling only the stench of itself
tasting only the bitter tears it seeks to conceal
beneath an imposing steel visor.
Every day I wait for you to remove it.
Every day I tell myself who you really are
underneath that mask.
Every day I wait for a sign
or some indication that you’ve returned
to your senses.
Every day I read, searching the headlines
for missive that you will make the world right again.
But what if you don’t?
What if you can’t?
What if you just
won’t?
We have it in our grasp to prevent tragedies, preserve our planet’s resources, and save ourselves from ourselves. This piece is written in response to the repeated, grave woundings of self-respect and respect for others that appear daily in the news. For that reason, I have sworn off that information stream. Sometimes it is just too much to realize that many of us are broken beyond all hope of repair.
American writer
