We lie in the beds that we've made,

As we summon the rising seas.

Will it be fire or ice we don't know,

Why take so much more than you need?

Complacency and hubris will send us to our graves.

The only consolation I can name is;

Even though we might not make it out alive, at least we know that no-one else survived.

It feels like everything's awry and all I see is unwarranted high fives.

Purgatorial limbo and twilight, it all fizzles out with a whimper not a bang