Destruction Hill

Destruction Hill

Rolling, rolling down a great big hill called destruction,

No brakes, no breaks, no hands to catch the slide,

We laugh as we tumble, cheer the acceleration,

Blind to the cliff edge we’re pretending to ride.

The ground cracks open beneath our careless feet,

Promises shatter like glass in the heat,

Whispers of safety drown in the roar,

While hope’s just a ghost we can’t hold anymore.

We clutch at shadows, empty and thin,

Falling fast, knowing we’ll never win,

But still, we shout, still, we scream,

Fueling the fire of a reckless dream.

The air tastes bitter, thick with regret,

Every heartbeat a ticking threat,

Yet here we go, no turning back,

Rolling headlong on this broken track.

No savior coming, no hand to lend,

Just echoes of warnings we chose to bend,

The sky darkens, no stars to guide,

Only the truth we shoved aside.

When the crash comes, it won’t be kind,

No rescue for the lost or blind,

Just silence, cold, and final breath,

The end of rolling, the kiss of death.

So roll if you must, with eyes wide shut,

Embrace the fall, the sinking gut,

But know this truth, carved in stone:

Destruction’s hill is yours alone.