Vox Meditantis

There’s a tremor in the air tonight,
A whisper that we can’t ignore,
The shadows creep beyond our sight,
While warning bells sound evermore.

The ice caps melt, the oceans rise,
The forests burn, the species fall,
Yet still we wear our thin disguise
And tell ourselves we’ve seen it all.

Something’s wrong, we feel it deep,
A gnawing in our restless souls,
The promises we cannot keep,
The earth that bears our burning coals.

We built these towers reaching high,
These weapons pointed at our hearts,
We poisoned water, soil, and sky,
Then wondered why the world departs.

The scientists have raised their voice,
The children march upon our streets,
But still we make the same old choice
To dance until the music beats.

Something’s wrong, the clock runs down,
The hourglass nearly emptied out,
We wear destruction like a crown
And wonder what it’s all about.

Masters of our own demise,
Architects of coming night,
We close our ears and shut our eyes
And stumble toward the fading light.

The future calls with trembling hands,
But we’re too proud to change our ways,
So on we go with shifting sands
Beneath our feet these dying days.

Something’s wrong, and deep we know
The fault lies not in distant stars,
But in the seeds that we did sow,
The wounds we’ve carved, the endless scars.

Bob Lynn | © 2025 Vox Meditantis. All rights reserved. | 🌐 Translate

Photo by JF Martin on Unsplash