You can’t but see the haze
Lung irritating
Trees on horizon hills
Lay cloaked, beyond still
A leak below
Spitting sulphur
Into a crystal sky
To turn smokey quartz
What was once beautiful
Is now still in a different form
Now torn the ground
And make leak the unfound
All the birds call
For any port in this storm
Tracking the air
Like veins in a hand
Reaching with their wings
Momentarily
Through the choking
Air caked with grime
Before the world returns
To a façade of
Smokey quartz
And no sanctuary in ports
Just a burn and purge
Just the cleansing smoke
Snuffing a citrine
Starless sky to silence
Off in the distance
There stirs nothing
For the weak find their
End in an air of quartz
Consume Reality! 